Falling Into College Year 1
by RLobinske
Summary: After the events of The Last Summer, the first year of college for Daria and Jane. Daria begins her stay at Raft, while Jane works as a Teaching Assistant at Lawndale High until she can begin at Boston Fine Arts College. The stories continue through the
1. Boarding the Raft

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske 2004.

This is the first story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Boarding the Raft**

Daria Morgendorffer felt a tingle of anticipation as she led her family out of the elevator and down the dorm hallway to the right. She was dressed in an ochre/orange t-shirt, black skirt, green jacket and black boots. Clothes she had worn, as much as possible, in her last three years of high school. After today, they would be retired with honor. A suitcase was carried in her left hand while she fished in a jacket pocket with the other. Daria noted the communal bathrooms were located on both sides of the central elevator shaft in the residence hall wing. She walked down the hall to the last door on the left.

"Three-Sixteen Fenderson Hall. Here we are. Figures, I'm in one of the cells farthest from the bathroom."

She removed a set of freshly-issued keys from her pocket and unlocked the door. She stepped in and looked around. Her father, Jake, followed behind with two more suitcases. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, blue shorts and loafers. Helen, her mother, followed next, dressed in a cream pullover top and khaki shorts, her attention was on a stack of papers. Lastly, her younger sister, Quinn, entered, empty handed. Her red halter top and white shorts had attracted the attention of almost every male in line-of-sight as they made their way to the residence hall.

Inside, the room was mirror-imaged along either side of the door. Against the walls next to the door were two work desks with gooseneck lights, and worn, wheeled swivel-chairs. Sturdy book shelves adorned the walls over the desks. An Ethernet jack was provided for a computer at each desk. A large ceiling light provided overall room illumination. Along the long side walls of the room were waist-high dressers with storage cabinets a couple feet above. Beyond were small closets, about four-feet across. After an open space of about four feet were single beds, placed in the far corners. A small light was situated on the wall next to each bed, covered to shine light directly down. A sash window was situated above each bed. Rolled up, institutional blinds were the officially provided privacy, though curtain racks were present. About six feet of space separated the two beds across the room center, with a telephone mounted on the wall between.

"First to arrive. I get to pick my side of the room." Daria walked in and dropped the suitcase on the right-hand bed. "Dad, just drop those in front of the dresser, please."

"Thanks, Daria. Those were starting to get heavy."

Quinn looked around at the cramped accommodations. "God, Daria. They expect you to live like this?"

"For my freshman year, at least. Then, I have the option of staying or providing my own housing. Besides, this is still larger than that room we shared in the Highland apartment."

Quinn shuddered at the memory. "We were a lot smaller then, too."

Daria waved toward the closet. "Just think of what you have to look forward to next year."

Quinn's eyes shot open with the realization that she too would have to live with such a small closet a year from now.

Daria spoke again. "Mom, why don't you take a seat and finish going through that paperwork. Dad and I will finish bringing up the rest of my stuff. Hopefully, with a little help from Quinn."

Her sister recovered from her shock. "Sure."

With a hand on each shoulder, Daria guided the two from the room.

* * *

"I hope this stuff holds properly."

Daria pressed a blob of mildly sticky, grey material onto one back corner of the skeleton print. She carefully stood on her bed and raised the print to shoulder height. Pressing against a blob in each corner, the poster was held in place over the bed.

"No nails, tacks, staples or other attachments that can damage the walls. Wouldn't it make more sense just to put up corkboards?" Daria complained at having to use the clay-like adhesive.

Daria was alone; boxes and suitcases lined the floor along the side of the room. Her family had left to check into a nearby hotel and get settled. She had placed her anatomical models and cheese wedge on the top shelf over the desk. She removed her Kafka poster from its shipping tube and gently flattened it against the floor. Repeating the process used for the other poster, she hung it next to her desk. She opened a suitcase on the bed and removed a sheet of plywood with a section of gray-fabric padding attached to one face. She'd cut the padding from her room in her old home in Lawndale just before leaving. Leftover from the previous owners, the room had housed an unstable person. Daria had found the padding a comfort and a protective barrier.

"That sticky clay isn't going to hold this up."

Looking around, she thought for a few minutes. She walked back to the desk, placed the padding on the left side, and leaned it against the wall. Daria sat at the chair and was pleased to notice that the padding and Kafka poster would both be within view when working at the desk. A comforting reminder.

Heavy-soled footsteps stopped outside and something was set down. Daria heard keys in the lock. She turned in the chair to face the door and said, "It's open."

The door opened outward and a feminine voice replied, "Thanks."

Moments later, a tall girl with darkish blond hair walked in. She had a large backpack on; two heavy satchels were slung over her shoulders, the straps crossing in the center of her chest. In each hand was a suitcase. Though straining some, it was clear she carried the burden with little difficulty.

"Well, looks like this is my side of the room." The newcomer said with a clear, southern accent.

Dropping the suitcases and peeling off the attached luggage revealed a young woman about six inches taller than Daria, with a solid body frame, wide hips, and somewhat larger bust line than Daria's. She wore patched blue jeans, round-toed cowboy boots and a short-sleeved plaid shirt.

"Hi. Karen Myerson." She extended her hand to Daria.

Daria rose and accepted the handshake. "Daria Morgendorffer."

The two looked at each other for a few minutes, searching for something more to say.

Daria finally said, "Are your parents bringing up the rest of your stuff?"

"Nah. This is it, for now. My folks couldn't afford the trip, sent me here by Greyhound. I shipped my books and some other stuff by UPS, should be here by Tuesday."

Daria looked at the amount of stuff she brought with and felt self-conscious. "Um. My family will be back from checking into their hotel soon. We're going out to dinner. Would you like to come along?"

"Thank you, much. "I've been on buses or in stations since yesterday morning. The only real meal I've had was this morning, during a layover in D. C."

"You must be starving by now."

"I've been worse. Let me get some of this unpacked and run down the hall for a quick shower. I've been in these clothes the whole trip and really want to get in something clean."

"Go ahead. If my parents get back before you do, I'll have them wait."

* * *

The Morgendorffers were unpacking more of Daria's things. Quinn was hanging clothes in the closet. Helen unpacked the compact appliances, coffee maker, microwave, and hotplate. Jake was transferring books to the shelf over Daria's head, as she worked to connect her computer components.

Karen walked in toweling her hair. She had changed to a pair of olive colored, cargo pant shorts, a blue t-shirt with "Owen Farm Supply" in white letters on the front, and grey sneakers.

"Oh, hi everybody."

Daria turned and tugged on Jake's sleeve to get his attention. "This is Karen…Karen; this is my father, Jake; my mother, Helen; and my alleged sister, Quinn."

Karen nodded to each, who in turn responded with kind. "If you will excuse me." She went to her closet and opened the door to reveal the modest mirror built in. She started combing her hair.

Jake rubbed his hands together. "Daria told us she invited you with to dinner, as soon as you're ready, let's go. I'm starving."

Karen smiled. "Give me a minute."

* * *

_How could I be so stupid?_ Daria thought as Jake rambled on about his father. _Exposing somebody I just met to this_.

Daria, her family, and her new roommate, Karen, were seated in a buffet restaurant near the Raft campus. The campus-based décor and general wear on the tables indicated that the place was popular with students. The food was simple, cheap, flavorful, and plentiful.

Jake waved his fist in the air. "Oh, no! It was bad enough that he couldn't get me to go straight into the Marines, but to have me say no to ROTC at Middleton. I thought he was going to blow a vein that night."

Daria leaned over toward Karen and whispered. "I plead temporary insanity. Nobody should be introduced to my dad like this without prior warning."

Karen watched Jake with a stunned look on her face. She whispered back to Daria, "I'm sure you just meant to be polite. My uncle Steve gets like this sometimes. But, you usually need to prime him with a fifth of Jack."

Jake dropped his head low to the table and almost growled. "Said going to Vietnam would make a man out of me, like Korea did for him. 'Course, he never mentioned that he was only there four months."

Helen placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and sternly said, "Jake." When he turned to face her, she softened her voice and said, "I think that's enough for now. Why don't we let our guest tell a little about herself?"

Jake calmed. "Oh. Yeah."

Helen turned toward Karen. "So, where are you from?"

"A little town in south Georgia."

"What do your parents do?"

"Farming. Mostly vegetable crops: onion, sweet corn, and tomatoes."

"Both of them?"

"Yeah, it's the family business. They're fourth generation on the land. My older brother will hopefully be the fifth."

"So what brings you to Raft?"

"The Pre-Vet program. I worked a couple summers for one of the local veterinarians and caught the bug. He was willing to put in a letter of recommendation to his Alma Mater, so here I am."

Quinn perked up at her comments. "Veterinarian. That is so cool. Getting to work with puppies and kittens all the time."

Karen smirked a little. "Actually, I'll probably end up as a large animal vet, like cows and pigs."

Quinn's face scrunched. "Ewww." After a moment though, her eyes brightened. "Hey, that would also include horses."

"There is that."

Daria's interest was also piqued. "I heard that's one of the tougher programs to get into."

"Fortunately, I was always considered the brain of the family, so my grades helped. So did the summer work and that letter. I'm very lucky to get here."

Daria relaxed a little. It looked like she had a roommate with a reasonable intelligence.

Karen continued talking to Daria. "So, what's your major?"

"English and Education"

"Major and minor?"

"Double major."

"You've got guts. Let me guess, you want to be a writer, but want the teaching credentials to keep food on the table."

"I like food on the table."

Helen interjected. "Daria will have one of her short stories published in the October issue of _Literature in Action_."

"Cool. I'll have to read it when it comes out."

Jake attempted to join the conversation. "Are you two ready to stand in line for class registration?"

Karen tilted her head to the left, and Daria rolled her eyes before saying, "Dad. I pre-registered online a couple months ago. All incoming freshman did, or used the telephone registration. The only people who will be in line at the registrar's office tomorrow will be those who want to add/drop classes and have to turn in permission slips. Even regular add/drop is online. However, I hear the line at financial aid is legendary."

"You mean you won't have to fight for three days to get all the classes you want?"

"No, Dad."

"Then why did they make you arrive so early?"

"To get everything ready before classes start a week from Tuesday. Orientation is on Monday. I have an appointment Tuesday to get my computers configured and hooked up to the campus network. Library orientation is on Wednesday. Student life workshops are on Thursday and campus safety on Friday. Sometime in there, I want to comparison shop between the campus bookstore and the local independents, to get the best price on used textbooks."

Karen nodded along with Daria as she reviewed the week. "Plus, give some of us time to deal with that legendary financial aid line."

Helen asked, "Karen, I didn't see a computer for you. That's not part of what you shipped, was it?"

"No. We only had one computer at home. Mom and Dad need it for the business more. Once I get my financial aid, I'm hoping to get a good, local-made Frankenstein. Until then, I'll be using the library computers.

Helen quietly said, "Oh."

Daria looked down at her plate in silence.

* * *

After breakfast the next day, the Morgendorffers headed off for a guided tour of campus. They were lead by a young man in a polo shirt, who mumbled his own name so badly that it was unrecognizable. The campus was arranged around a large quadrangle, the original resident halls along the north side for men, south side for women. The east side held the administrative offices and some of the teaching halls. The west perimeter was lined by more of the teaching halls. Later additions to the school radiated out from these reference points, following the same pattern. The sorority houses fell away to the south from the quad, fraternities to the north. The newer teaching buildings and the library were to the west, as well as the small stadium and gymnasium. The cafeteria was next to the south side of main admin building, promising to nauseate staff as well as students. The bookstore was to the opposite side of admin. Glimpsed, but not explored were the student-centered businesses that arise around campuses: copier services, bookstores, bars, restaurants, music, video, convenience stores and coffee houses.

The guides speech was dull, canned and could have been omitted for anyone capable of reading the large signs in front of each building. The Morgendorffers made small talk among themselves, with Helen, Jake, and Quinn taking turns quietly talking to Daria.

* * *

The young man in the polo shirt gave a friendly wave to the Morgendorffers. "Good bye. I hope you enjoyed the Raft tour." He turned and jogged off across the quad, lit by the noon-day sun.

Daria stood, with her family, next to the SUV. In place of her old clothes, she had on blue jeans and a black Mystic Spiral t-shirt.

"Well everybody, you've seen where I'll be spending the next four years. You probably want to get going so you can be back in Lawndale at a reasonable time."

Jake looked downcast. "You're right. We do need to get going."

Helen added, "Good thing we checked out early and loaded up. Gave us a little more time with our girl."

Quinn hugged Daria and spoke into her ear. "Please call often. I don't know how I'm going to deal with them by myself."

"Be brave. I promise I'll call regularly. They probably won't let me do to the other students what I used to do to you." Daria returned to Quinn's ear.

Quinn backed away and lightly punched her sister. "Daria."

Daria smiled at Quinn. "Remember to give as well as you get."

Quinn nodded.

Jake and Helen both moved in and hugged Daria.

Helen's voice choked with emotion. "Please don't forget to call us from time to time. We're going to miss you."

Jake said, "We'll always be there for you."

Daria couldn't resist. "Or at least the answering machine will."

Jake missed the sarcasm. "It sure will be, just leave a message and we'll call back right away."

Helen sighed, but recognized the truth behind the sarcasm. "But you know I keep my cell phone with me. Don't be afraid to call there."

"I won't, Mom."

Jake and Helen embraced Daria again, and both said, "Good bye."

"Good bye. Mom, Dad, Quinn. Please drive safe. I'll call later."

The three settled into the SUV and waved back to Daria as they drove away.

* * *

Daria absentmindedly said hello to her various neighbors in the dorm hall. Names were beginning to coalesce with faces, but none were comfortable yet. She reached her door and set down the small laundry basket she carried. Inside, she faintly heard Karen's voice.

"Her family was kind of out there, but she seems to be okay…At least I got a good meal out of it…Crazy kid's a double major, English and Education…Leave it to my brother to ask…She's petite and really cute."

Daria found herself compelled to listen in as she thought. _She can't be talking about me_.

"Auburn hair, slim build, round glasses…I'd kill to have her hips instead of this bus bumper I got from Mom."

_You're kidding. You want my hips?_

Yeah. That's about right…The main thing I'm afraid of is that there will be a herd of boys following her around."

_She's afraid I'll have a string of boys through here? She can't be confusing me with Quinn_. Daria was dumbfounded

Karen's voiced changed to one of good-natured humor. "It was bad enough fielding calls from all the girls you used to date…Yes, it was that bad…Don't give me any of that crap…I still have all my notes…I thought that'd get your attention…She'd love to hear about some of those winners…I thought you'd see things my way…Anyway, I hope I don't end up dealing with a continuous series of guys asking her out or whatever."

Daria grinned. _No worries there_.

Karen continued to talk. "Thanks, brother. I'll try to keep myself out of trouble…At least better than you did at Georgia Tech…Okay…You take care, too…Good night."

Daria stood still, staring at the door for a good minute before she shook her head and opened it.

"Hi, Karen. Finally finished the parent tour and they're on the way home. Do you mind if I just veg around here a while?"

"Go ahead. I just finished talking with my brother and want to get some fresh air."

"See you later."

Karen left and Daria sat on her bed. She felt a lump by the pillow and pulled out a wrapped package.

**_I'm going to miss you. You'd better enjoy college for putting me through this. You won't be able to wear it now, but you should enjoy it this fall._**

_**Quinn**_

Daria opened the package to find a dark green sweater inside. The color matched her old jacket perfectly. Daria felt the delicate softness of the fabric as she removed it from the box. She read the label.

"Cashmere. Just like you, Quinn. This must have been expensive; I hope you used your employee discount to buy it at Cashman's. Not what I would have chosen, but thanks."

Daria folded the sweater and placed it in one of her dresser drawers. She went to the basket and withdrew her clothes from the day before. She went to her closet and pulled out a tiny ironing board and clothes iron. She lightly pressed each item as needed. She clipped the black skirt to the lower edge of a wooden hanger. She slid a second hanger through the neck of the ochre t-shirt and placed the jacket over that. She zipped up the jacket, placed the two hangers together and fitted a garment bag around them. She closed the bag and gently hung it in the closet.

"Thank you. You have served me well and earned your respected retirement. Now rest."

Daria closed the closet door, walked to her bed and sat. She rested her arm on the window sill and stared out into the residence hall's inner quad. A couple students were lying on beach towels, sun-bathing. Some were throwing frisbees around. Others were talking, getting to know each other. A contented smile spread on her face.

"I made it. I'm a college student. I'm in a world that is dedicated to learning and not just paying lip service to it." Daria yawned and shook her head to clear it. "I hope my roommate doesn't keep waking up at six in the morning."

* * *

Thanks to: Lawndale Stalker, Roger E. Moore, Mike Nassour, and SteveBlumDeckler at PPMB for commentary and encouragement.

Special thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowell for beta reading and detailed editorial suggestions.

July 2004  
Revised January 2005


	2. Returning Nightmare

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske 2004.

This is the second story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Returning Nightmare**

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Jane Lane stood before the front doors of Lawndale High School. Short, black hair and bright blue eyes topped a lean figure wearing a red shirt tucked into black slacks over heavy boots. Scattered cars were visible in the parking lot, but otherwise the school looked oddly deserted. The hot late August sun shown down on Jane's back as she prepared herself to go in.

Raising her right hand, Jane shouted. "_Morituri te salutant,_" and walked through the doors.

* * *

Angela Li's office looked the same as recent years. Ms. Li also looked the same in her power suit and square framed glasses.

"Have a seat, Ms. Lane."

Jane sat in one of the chairs, thinking of the times she sat there for being in some kind of trouble.

"Welcome to the Lawndale High School teaching staff. I know your Teaching Assistant appointment is only for the first half of the school year, but I like the idea of such an honored student as you returning to Lawndale High to help teach."

"Since when was I considered an honored student?"

"When I agreed to let Ms. Defoe hire you."

Jane placed a lidded, manila folder labeled, _Lawndale High School Student Leaders Honor Society _on the desk in front of Ms. Li.

"I'd wondered if this had anything to do with it. The school copy of the charter, our president requested that I deliver it to you."

During the summer, a prominent lawyer had offered to establish an honor society for recent LHS graduates. As expected, Ms. Li was more than happy to accommodate. The two star students of the last senior class were selected, Jodie Landon and Michael MacKenzie. Much to Ms. Li's horror, the other two students chosen to fill the inaugural membership were the young woman sitting in front of her, and her best friend, Daria Morgendorffer.

Jane slipped one hand into her pocket and grasped the cable release for the nonmetallic, miniature camera mounted as a shirt button. She thought, _I don't want to know where Daria finds these toys, but the photos will be priceless._

Ms. Li opened the folder and read the cover letter. It was fairly much standard boilerplate, but when she read the president's signature, Ms. Li's eyes bulged into something more commonly seen on Anthony Demartino and she uttered a strangled, "What!"

"Is there a problem?"

"How did that misanthrope, Ms. Morgendorffer, become president?"

Jane clicked away at the shutter cable on the hidden camera. "Well, Jodie refused the position, so she, Mack, and I ganged up on Daria. She never stood a chance."

Ms. Li's mouth dropped open and she struggled to speak. Suddenly, she looked at Jane with a new respect. Jane, along with Jodie and Mack, had succeeded in getting Daria to join something and stay with it. A task she personally hadn't succeeded at.

"That can't be helped now. Thank you for delivering the charter. It will look good to have one of the members of this new society on hand to promote it to this year's senior class."

Jane thought, _Oh. Great_.

"Back to your business. Have you read the staff handbook?"

"Yes."

Ms. Li examined papers from a folder in front of her. "All your paperwork appears to be in order. We're done for now. Why don't we go meet your fellow teachers in the lounge?"

* * *

They walked down the deserted halls toward the faculty lounge. Jane paused at the door before opening it and entering.

Angela Li stalked into the room at a fast pace. "Welcome our newest assistant, Ms. Jane Lane. She will be working directly with Claire Defoe. She's one of our recent graduates; she's gone from Self-Esteem class outcast, to honor society member, and now to teaching staff. I think her fine example of perseverance will bring much glory to Lawndale High. Don't forget the staff policy review meeting will be in the auditorium today at ten. I want those first trimester lesson plans on my desk by noon tomorrow. Okay everybody. Back to work."

"Ms. Lane. What a pleasure to see you back so soon." Anthony Demartino's voice boomed from the other side of the room.

Jane cringed back a bit at the sound of her old history teacher.

Anthony walked across the room to her. His voice was slightly calmer than Jane was used to hearing. "It really is a pleasure to see a new face interested in such noble, but thankless, endeavor. Welcome aboard."

Claire Defoe also walked up to Jane. "I'm so happy you're here. I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Jane. I think it's wonderful when a strong young woman, such as you, decides to and teach." Janet Barch said as she stood from her chair.

Timothy O'Neill briefly consulted a note before looking toward Jane. "It's good to see one of our fine students return to share the love of learning instilled by Lawndale."

Jane fought back rolling her eyes at the almost predictable responses. _One of the disadvantages of attending a small school like Lawndale, even low-key students like me are remembered by the faculty. These people were my teachers three months ago, and now they'll be my colleagues_.

"Thanks everyone. To be honest, it feels a little strange being back here. I hope I don't embarrass myself too much."

Claire whispered to Jane, "Probably no more than we do."

A single thought rolled through Jane's mind like a mantra. _Paying for BFAC_.

* * *

The art classroom was mostly empty. Claire and Jane walked in from the supply room carrying a large box each.

"Not very exciting, but having you prepare supplies for each class is going to be relief."

"No problem. Out of curiosity, how were you able to pry the money from Ms. Li to hire help this year?"

They set the boxed down in front of two chairs.

"I didn't. I got a grant from the State Teachers Association."

"That I believe more than Li giving up money. So, what do you have to do for them to get the money?"

Claire began removing bulk paint containers from her box, checking against an inventory as she did.

"Helping to write the new state standards for high school art education."

Jane was removing paint brushes, wrapped in groups in newspaper. She unwrapped each bundle and checked them off on another inventory sheet.

"Cool. What else besides doing the supply prep will I be doing?"

"You will work with me during class to help with student projects."

"I was hoping. Let's see if I have what it takes to teach."

"It's not as easy as it looks. Follow my lead."

* * *

The Lawndale faculty performed a display of unsynchronized yawns as they exited the auditorium a little before noon. To an outside observer, a herd instinct appeared to control the group as it amorphously moved to the lounge.

Jane gave Claire a pleading look. "Are all of the meetings like that?"

"That's the first-of-the-year shocker. Ms. Li uses it as a threat to keep all subsequent meetings under control."

"So it works?"

"Do you want to go through that again?"

"It works."

The staff filed into the lounge and scattered to various locations, chairs, tables, refrigerator, microwave, and coffee maker. Jane made a direct run for the coffee. Several instructors had cups they clearly kept on hand, while others used styrofoam. She poured a foam cup, added real milk from a nearby carton and a bit of sugar.

"Whoa. This is very good coffee."

"It is one of the few pleasures we have to get us through the day. So, Timothy donates the stuff Ms. Li buys to a shelter, and we buy our own. This week is Kenya AA." Anthony poured coffee into a dark blue mug. "Donation's a dollar a week. We started last year to celebrate our successful strike."

Diane Bennett brought over a carton of half-and-half from the refrigerator. "We also provide our own supplies; otherwise, the alternative is that." She pointed to a small, quarter operated gumball dispenser with non-dairy creamer inside.

Jane shook her head as she retrieved her lunch and located a vacant chair. Halfway through her sandwich, an irritating voice cut the air from one side.

"Well, well. Jane Lane. I wonder how long you are going to last at this before you quit."

Jane turned to see Ms. Morris. "My contract is through the winter break, so expect to see me darkening the door here until then."

"Ha. You won't last a month. You're a Lane and will slack off long before you're done. Just like you and your sisters have always done."

"I can't help the grudge you've held for two years. I have my reasons to be here and intend to stay. Why don't we just avoid each other to prevent any more of this warm conversation?"

Jane stood and walked away.

* * *

"Why does that woman still get to me?" Jane complained to the empty bedroom.

A long run and hot shower after work hadn't relieved all of the frustration at her old track coach and PE teacher. She was stretched out on her bed in black shorts and v-neck shirt. A towel was draped over the stacked pillows to keep her damp hair from soaking them.

"Flies with a nefarious way to smuggle themselves into the county. You've got me under your skin. Next on _Sick, Sad World_."

"Grrgh. Repeat."

Jane picked up the remote and started channel surfing. "Crap…No way…That's still on?...Ugh."

The ringing telephone stopped her. "Saved by the bell." She answered with, "Lawndale Sausage Factory. You don't want to know what kind of critters go in our fritters."

Daria Morgendorffer replied without missing a beat, "I bet you use everything but the 'Eap'."

"Daria! Great to hear from you. How's the indoctrination coming?"

"About as well as can be expected. At least they didn't hit us with any psychological tests the first day."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want you meeting a new best friend."

"You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Not that I haven't tried."

"You're just trying. How was your first day of indoctrination?"

"Scary. You thought Ms. Li's student assemblies were boring. Her staff assemblies are worse."

"I didn't think it was possible."

"Sorry to say, it is."

"Speaking of the devil, how did the handover of the charter go?"

"I still have the download the pictures to my computer, but the look on her face was something to be seen."

"I can't wait."

"After the initial shock, she gave me the weirdest look. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was respect."

"You're obviously hallucinating."

"I wish I was in the teacher's lounge. Mr. Demartino was nice to me. Barch and O'Neill making eyes at each other, eww. That reminds me. Want to hear what they were up to behind the podium during your graduation speech?"

"No. I don't want to burn my ears off."

"Coward."

"Some things mankind was never meant to know."

"I wish I didn't."

"Anything else exciting?"

"Morris is still a first-class bitch; had a pleasant run-in with her during lunch."

"That's one person I never want to see again."

"You and me both. But I don't have a choice. Speaking of no choice, what kind of weirdo do you have as a roommate?"

"Nothing glaringly obvious. Karen seems like a reasonably serious student so far. Her southern accent sounds really out of place in Boston though. Didn't react badly to my posters, hasn't hung any herself yet. Shows no signs yet of being a neat-freak or a pig. Polite, but not overly friendly."

"Sounds like the two alpha females are calmly studying each other before the fight for dominance."

"Could be."

"Remember. You can't kill your roommate. They probably frown on maiming also."

"Then I'll just have to save up all the frustration for when you arrive."

"A warm thought for me as always."

A crashing guitar cord reverberated through the house.

"Sounds like the Spiral is downstairs."

"Must be about to crank up practice. Talk to you later when I don't have to yell."

"Give Trent my regards. Talk to you later."

* * *

Claire stood at the front of the room. "Good morning, everyone. I am Ms. Defoe and this is room A-12. Please check your schedules to make sure you're in the right place. First period class will be Senior Art. I would like to introduce my assistant for the first half of the year. Ms. Lane, will you please come up front?"

"Oh, God." Jane quietly said to herself. She self-consciously checked her clothes, a bright red long-sleeve shirt rolled to the elbows, knee length black skirt, black leggings, and her boots.

She stepped out from the storeroom into class and walked to the front of the room. She vaguely recognized a few of the students looking at her, but for the most part they were a blur. One goofy, wide grin under a cap of black hair stood out from the crowd. The figure looked odd in a pale blue t-shirt and blue jeans, but there was no mistaking Kevin Thompson.

"Jane! How're you doing, babe."

Claire developed a very cross expression at his outburst. "Kevin! You will address her as Ms. Lane. You will not use her first name. You will not use 'babe'."

"Um. Sorry."

"Please tell us a little about yourself, Ms. Lane."

Jane reached the front near Claire. "Hi. Some of you recognize me as a recent graduate of Lawndale. I will be assisting Ms. Defoe during the first half of the year before leaving for Boston Fine Arts College in January. To use the words of a good friend: I hope to get out of here unscathed."

* * *

The dissonant roar of the school cafeteria assaulted Jane's ears as she sat down at a table reserved for staff.

"Great. Bottom of the pecking order, so I get the jobs nobody else wants. Now I have to watch the students eat instead of ignore them."

Jane's view of the room was abruptly blocked by Kevin sitting down across the table from her. This close, she noticed that he had a considerably darker tan than normal and wondered if his dad had put him to work over the summer in his construction company.

"You know, Jane, with Brittany away at Great Prairie State, I have an opening for a new babe."

"Kevin. You're starting to have as much appeal as Upchuck."

"But."

"Read my lips. I like humans."

"But."

Jane rose from her seat and barked in a loud voice, "You'll address me as Ms. Lane. This table is for school staff only. Get up and sit at one of the student tables. Now!"

"Yes, Ms. Lane."

Kevin walked over and started to sit with the football team. They spread out enough to prevent him from sitting, so he wandered from table to table, only to be rejected at each. Finally, he sat at an empty table. Jane recognized it well; she sat there for four years.

* * *

Returning from lunch, Jane was about to enter the art room when she heard voices.

"Claire, I know you like her. But, that family is a bunch of complete losers and quitters. What are you going to do when she up and leaves in a month or so?"

"She won't."

"Don't bet on it."

"This is what she loves. She won't leave it easily."

"She also liked running, but quit that easily enough. Or that poster contest."

Ms. Morris, we both have class soon. I think you need to get over to yours."

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you. That girl hasn't amounted to a hill of beans in her entire life. Just like her sisters. She spent four years here and has nothing to show for it but a piece of paper."

Jane stepped to the side so that the opening door blocked her from Ms. Morris's view. Jane's anger smoldered at Ms. Morris's comments. Jane thought, _Nothing to show for it? I think we can fix that_.

Once Ms. Morris was down the hall, Jane entered the classroom.

"Sorry about that. Ms. Morris has had a bone to pick with me ever since I was a freshman. My short track team career didn't help any either."

"Choosing between the team and a friend. I understand."

"How'd you know?"

"I'm an artist. I observe. Especially my favorite students."

Jane smiled. "I'll have to be careful around you. Doesn't she know about the honor society last summer?"

"I don't think so."

"I think we need to educate her. Do you mind if I make a brief stop before we leave today?"

"Jane. You're not going to do something rash, are you?"

"Me. Rash?"

"Jane."

"No. But I am going to do something I've never consciously done before." Jane imitated Ms. Li. "Bring honor and glory to Lawndale High."

She smiled and looked thoughtful for a moment. "And get a friend some recognition she deserves."

* * *

"Yep. Bottom of the pecking order. Study hall overseer. I guess it means Claire trusts me at least."

Jane sat at the front of the class. Current student projects had been moved to the side of the room to leave blank tables, chairs and desks. Students were drifting in slowly when Jane recognized Quinn's bright red hair moving into the room. Close behind were the rest of her friends, Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany.

"This has the potential to be a lot of fun."

The bell ringing brought the students to final decisions on seats. Jane stood and faced the room.

"Good afternoon. I'm Ms. Lane and I will supervise your study hall this period. I expect you to treat me the same as Ms. Defoe. Otherwise, I will make your existence most unpleasant. Some of you are familiar enough with me to know that this is not an empty threat." Jane looked directly at Quinn during the last comment.

Quinn gave Jane a weak smile, and then quietly said, "Oh, no."

Sandi watched Quinn's reaction. "Quinn. Isn't that your sister's weird art friend?"

Stacy added, "I thought she graduated last year."

Tiffany cocked her head a little to the left. "Yeah. Graduated."

Jane watched the foursome with amusement before continuing. "You're supposed to use this time to study or do homework. Like that's going to happen."

Jane grinned to the class. "I ask that you keep yourself physically within the room. Don't damage the room, its contents, or its occupants. Finally, keep the volume to something manageable. If you can do that, we'll get along fine."

Joey, Jamie, and Jeffy entered the room, clearly having been running to get there.

Jane turned to look directly at the three and crossed her arms. "Late on your first day. Do you think I should make an example of you?"

Joey said, "Uh, we're only a little late."

Jamie added, "Coach Gibson had us stay a little late at gym."

Jeffy shuffled his feet. "Should we have gotten a note?"

Jane stifled a laugh. "Yes. You should have. Now find a seat. I just told the rest of the class that I expect you do stay put, not wreck the room, or each other, and to keep it down. Do you think you can handle that?"

The three voiced several affirmatives as they struggled to locate seats near Quinn. Jane watched with continued amusement, but thought it odd that Jamie was less enthusiastic than last year.

"One last warning. Since I have you as a captive audience, I will be using you for drawing studies. So if you don't want be drawn in a compromising position, don't get me upset."

Jane sat down at the front desk and pulled out a sketchpad to make the point.

* * *

Jane stepped from the blue classic VW Beetle and turned to Claire. "Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome. See you in the morning." The Beetle pulled away as Jane turned to face the house.

"I thought the first day of my freshman year was bad."

Jane walked into the house and directly to her room. Minutes later, Jane emerged wearing running gear. She peeked through the open door of Trent's room and found it empty. She went downstairs, found the kitchen also empty. Jane headed down the next set of stairs to the basement. Down there, she found Trent plugging his guitar into an amplifier.

"Hey! Trent. I'm going for a run. Be back in a half-hour or so."

"Have fun. By the way, where have you been all day?"

"Um, Trent. First day of school."

"I thought you graduated."

Jane picked up some dirty laundry to throw. As she took aim, she saw Trent's smirk.

"Idiot."

"Weird, having your own sister cross over to the dark side."

"Hey! It's only temporary."

"Yeah. You can quit any time. How'd things go today?"

"How long have you got?"

* * *

Quinn sat at the sales desk for the children's department of Cashman's. She was reading a battered, paperback copy of _Inferno._ "LHS English Dept." was written on the spine. She set the book down and rubbed her eyes.

"Now I see why Daria liked that Dante guy, but I can only take so much. I can't believe Mr. O'Neill is starting off the year with it."

She picked up a small notebook and started writing. After a few moments, she erased part of what she wrote and quickly penciled in something new. A wry grin spread across her face as she continued writing.

"I'm probably going to regret writing this letter to Ms. Li, but Jane was right. Daria deserves it, she'll hate it, and there's nothing she can do about it." Quinn grinned at being able to have a little fun with her sister, and started writing again.

_**Ms. Li,**_

**_I was wondering if you were going to recognize my sister, Daria, for being the first president of that new Honor Society at Lawndale. My parents and I were very proud of her for that, and I think she should be given the attention by the school that she deserves._**

_**Quinn Morgendorffer**_

Quinn tapped the pencil eraser on her chin as she thought a bit more. "I wonder what Jane is really up to?"

* * *

"I hate this." Daria complained over the telephone.

"You'll do fine." Jane replied as she cradled the cordless phone on her shoulder. She continued to work on a painting of Daria, wearing a blue one-piece swimsuit, sitting on a beach chair. A young blond man looked up at her from his seat on the ground.

"Fine? You can pay my counseling bills."

"We'll take up a collection."

"Good to know who my friends are."

"At least you don't have to be there in person."

"My only consolation."

"Changing the subject. You've had a full week of college class. How is it?"

"Better than high school, but you can still tell these are freshman classes. Concentrating on getting my required courses out of the way, so they aren't the most exciting. However, I have to work and learn more to keep up. Kind of fun.

"So you finally found something you'd admit was fun. Figures it would be more school."

"So, I'm still the weird chick."

"That's why you're my friend."

"How did you survive your first week?"

"Kevin made a pass at me. Thing is, it wasn't any fun to shoot him down. It just seemed too easy. I'm stuck with cafeteria watch and covering Claire's study hall. Quinn and the rest of the fiends are in that. Your sister's puppy patrol is also there. That group dynamic is very entertaining. I'm going to have sketch material for months after this. Otherwise, not much to say unless you really enjoy hearing about storerooms and ordering supplies."

"Please tell me you are tormenting Quinn. She deserves it for writing that letter."

"Only when the opportunity occurs. I don't want her to appear as a teacher's pet."

"Now that's an evil thought. She would be mortified."

"Hmm. Nice weapon to keep in the arsenal."

"Since you're bound to ask. I'm mostly getting along with my roommate, but at times it is trying. You'd kill her."

"Why?"

"Farm girl. She has a habit of getting out of bed at six AM or earlier. At least that means she goes to bed early."

"Six? That's obscene. No human would do that."

"Or at least any human we know."

"Talking to you is a great way to finish off a Monday, but I need to call it quits. I want to get in a good run before dark."

"I probably should get back to writing. Talk to you Friday."

Jane grinned. "Yeah. Friday." Jane turned off the phone and tossed it up in the air. "I sure could count on Quinn not to waste any time getting that letter out. Sibling rivalry can be such a useful tool. Now to wait for the fun."

"Wait for the fun? Am I going to need bail money for you?"

Jane turned to face Trent entering the room.

"Not in the least. This is an official, school sanctioned event."

Trent raised one eyebrow.

"Really. For a change, though, I'm going to enjoy the results."

"Are you sure I won't need to raise bail?"

"Positive."

Trent laughed and coughed some. He motioned with his head toward the painting. Jane nodded her head to invite him to look.

Trent rubbed his chin and examined the painting. After a few moments, he shook his head and faced Jane. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Uh. Sure."

He pointed to the painting. "Doesn't Daria see how she looks?"

Jane sadly smiled. "A little. Sometimes."

"Blind spot in her own mirror."

* * *

As the last of the students exited the room for Friday assembly, Jane removed a white protective smock. Underneath, she wore a red dress shirt with her black skirt. She buttoned the top button and fitted a black clip-on tie to her neck.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

A few minutes later, she stood at the stage wing watching Ms. Li at the podium. Claire and most of the other teachers were at the back of the auditorium. Ms. Li had already gone through several small orders of business.

Ms. Li looked to the side, making sure Jane was present. "Now an important announcement for the senior class. Through the generosity of one of our state's finest lawyers, Carol Murphey, Lawndale High School now recognizes four graduates each year for outstanding achievement in Student Leadership, Artistic Achievement, Academic Achievement, and Athletic Leadership. It gives me great pride to introduce the president and Academic Achievement representative for the 1999 inaugural class, of the Lawndale High School Student Leaders Honor Society. Speaking to us by telephone from Raft University, Ms. Daria Morgendorffer."

Daria's voice was broadcast over the public address system. "Thank you Ms. Li. Greetings to the class of 2000. I want to encourage you to participate to the fullest in your chosen areas of interest in the hope that you will be recognized by the faculty screening committee to this honor. To quote from our charter: This society will provide a venue to recognize a high school career of hard work, and to provide an atmosphere for these student leaders to network together in preparation for their future I can speak from experience that my participation in this society has allowed me to develop bonds with fellow student leaders that will endure long into the future. I wish to recognize our faculty nominating committee: Ms. Defoe for art, Mr. Demartino for academics, Mr. Gibson for athletics, and Ms. Li for student leadership."

The three teachers waved from the back of the room; Ms. Li nodded from the side of the stage.

Daria continued. "Besides myself, the 1999 representatives were Jodie Landon for Student Leadership and Michael MacKenzie for Athletic Leadership. Finally, one of our own has returned to help instill her love of art to the students of Lawndale High and will be presenting the permanent plaque for the main office. My friend, Jane Lane."

Jane forced a pleasant smile, and stepped onto the stage carrying the plaque. She glanced to the side enough to see a camera flash at the back of the room.

"Thank you, Daria."

Jane looked at the ornate brass work on a sturdy oak board. Down the left side was a column of years, starting with 1999, engraved on a strip of brass. To the right were four more strips, with one name at the top of each, below a title for the area of achievement.

Jane looked at a note and spoke under her breath.

"_I just want to say how proud I am today. Knowing that I have self-esteem gives me even more self-esteem_."

She chuckled quietly at the memory, and moved into range of the microphone again.

"On behalf of all the members of the class of 1999, I wish to extend our thanks to the teachers who guided and encouraged us. Personally, I wish to thank Ms. Defoe for four years of steadfast support."

Jane handed the plaque to Ms. Li, and then looked directly at Ms. Morris. "This recognition from Lawndale High allows me to say, to those who doubted, my life is worth more than a hill of beans. I hope that future members will find the same satisfaction from this honor as I do."

Jane left the stage with a genuine smile on her face.

Jane made her way around to the back of the auditorium. She noticed with some satisfaction that Ms. Morris was absent. She sidled up to a happy-looking Claire.

"I saw the flash; think you got a good one?"

"Jane. You're incorrigible. I think you'll be happy with the result."

"My best friend received some of the recognition she deserves, and Ms. Morris knows that I'm more than a pathetic loser. I think I'm happy.

* * *

Quote from _The Esteemsters_ by Glenn Eichler

Thanks for comments, suggestions and encouragement from: Lawndale Stalker, Mahna Mahna, Mike Nassour, Isa Yo-Jo, Steven Galloway, Kristen Bealer, Roger E. Moore, qwerty, and Parker-man at PPMB.

Special thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowell for beta reading and commentary.

July 2004  
Revised January 2005


	3. Lindy and The Knight

Disclaimer: This Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

This is the third story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Lindy and the Knight**

Jane slowly walked down the stairs from her room. The late morning sun shown in through the windows to illuminate the maroon shirt and black shorts she'd slept in. After navigating to the kitchen, she located the coffee, and dumped a crudely measured amount into a filter, which was unceremoniously dropped into the coffee maker basket. She filled the carafe from the sink and poured its contents into the back, ignoring the spillage. With the carafe back in place, she punched the "on" button and wandered to the living room to wait.

"Trent played McGrundy's last night. I wonder what kind of crap he dropped in the living room, this time." Jane wondered aloud as she entered the room.

"Ah. Crap."

A blonde woman, hair pulled into a loose pony tail, early twenties, was asleep on the sofa under a loose sheet. Her head was cradled on arms sleeved in denim. Sock-covered feet protruded from under the sheet, the hem of blue jeans visible also. A pair of low, brown boots was on the floor nearby.

"Trent. Another one?"

* * *

Jane opened Trent's door and carefully moved her right hand, holding a full cup of coffee, into the room. She sipped from a cup held in her left.

"Hey! Trent. Wake up."

"Ungh?"

"Wake up."

"Wha?'

"Dammit! Wake your sorry butt up!"

"Why?"

"So you can tell me who the hell that blonde is."

"Who?"

"The girl you left on the sofa last night, great way to treat your date."

Trent rolled off the bed and fell, face first, onto the floor. Pushing himself up, he turned to face Jane. "She wasn't my date."

"So what's she doing here?"

Trent started to get off the floor. "We found her passed out by the Tank."

"Why didn't you take her home?"

Sorting through a pile of clothes, he extracted a pair of pants. "Didn't have an ID."

"Nobody there knew who she was?"

Pulling his pants on, Trent stumbled toward the proffered coffee. "Somebody said her name was Lynn or something like that."

"Anything else?"

"Might be a student at Lawndale State."

"So, nobody knew where she was staying."

"Yeah. Nobody."

Jane handed the cup to her brother. "Okay, you did the right thing bringing her here. No telling what could have happened to her, passed-out around that bar."

Trent sipped from the cup. "Hope she was just drunk. Cops busted someone for rohipnol last night."

"Well, she seemed to be breathing okay when I was down there. I hope she doesn't get sick on us."

"I think she did last night on the way here."

"Please tell me you brought her home in the Tank."

"Uh. No. We came home in my rig."

Jane's shoulders slumped. "Did you at least get her head out a window?"

"Eventually."

"Damn. Trent, get that coffee down and keep an eye on her. I've already got a big glass of water and some aspirin ready for her on the kitchen table. I have to drive that car too, you know. I'm going to start getting it cleaned out."

"Cool."

"Argh!" Jane stomped downstairs and out of the house.

* * *

"Four months. Just four more months." Jane complained as she squatted next to the passenger door of the Plymouth. An open bag of cat litter was on the seat, and a wet/dry shop vac was just behind her.

Jane pushed the brush into the bucket of disinfectant, pulled it out, and went back to scrubbing the floor of the car.

"I should just tear all this out and put in a drain plug. It would make cleaning this thing out a hell of a lot easier."

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway got Jane's attention. She looked up to see a familiar blue Lexus. A worried-looking Quinn emerged and rushed up to Jane.

"Jane, is your brother home?"

Jane thought to herself, _Quinn asking about my brother. This is too weird. Don't I at least get to chase the white rabbit?_

Standing up, she faced Quinn. "He's here, but not quite ready for normal human interactions."

"Whatever. Look, was his band playing at McGrundy's Pub last night?"

Jane raised an eyebrow in concern. "Yes. What's going on?"

"A friend of mine didn't get home from there last night. We were supposed to get together for some shopping today. When she didn't show up, I called her apartment. Her roommate said she went out to McGrundy's and never came home. I was just over there and her car was still in the parking lot. A guy cleaning up said the band found somebody passed out by their van."

Quinn hesitated, lowered her voice, and continued. "She, um, sometimes has a kind of drinking problem. I hope Trent knows what happened to her."

"Does your friend have blonde hair, wears in a pony tail?"

Quinn jumped. "Yes!"

"Is her name Lynn or something like that?"

"Lindy. Do you know if she's okay?"

Jane wiped her hands on an old towel she pulled off the car roof. "Follow me."

They entered Casa Lane to find Lindy awake, her legs curled under her, leaning against Trent. Trent held one arm protectively over her shoulders. Lindy nursed the glass of water that Jane had set out earlier.

Jane shook her head and smiled at her brother.

Quinn, relieved, rushed forward. "Lindy! You're safe!"

Lindy squinted through pale blue eyes that were not yet focusing properly. "Quinn?"

"Yes. I was so worried."

"Why? Oh, wait a minute. We're going shopping today. What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

"Oh."

Quinn whispered, "Lindy, did you have too much to drink last night?"

"Guess I did. I'm sorry."

"Please be careful."

"I will. Have you met Trent? She leaned her head against his chest. "He's the gentle knight that rescued me last night."

Quinn had a mental image of Trent leaving the Morgendorffer home with Monique, almost two years before. Daria was watching from the hall window, almost in tears. "We've met."

* * *

Trent and Jane watched Quinn drive Lindy away in the Lexus. Jane snickered and put her hand on Trent's shoulder.

"There you go, having another one fall for you."

"Hey! She was upset when she woke up."

"And you just helped her to calm down."

"Tried to make her comfortable."

"Trent, you make all women feel comfortable. That's why they like you so much." Jane turned way and muttered, quietly, "All but one, that is."

"What was that?"

"Never mind. Since you're not on drunk watch, help me finish cleaning the car."

"Ugh."

"Just let this remind you to be careful. From what Quinn said, she might have a drinking problem."

"Well, why don't we see? She does seem to be a nice girl."

* * *

Once the car was out of the driveway, Lindy turned to Quinn.

"Don't worry about stopping at the hospital to get me checked; I know nothing happened."

Quinn nearly panicked. "How can you be sure? There's at least an hour you can't account for!"

Lindy pulled a plastic-wrapped tampon from her jacket pocket. "Rapists normally don't replace these. All the ones I had on me are accounted for."

Quinn giggled. "So that's why you didn't want to tell Trent why you were so certain."

"Didn't want to embarrass him, or gross him out. Otherwise, I would be beating on you to get to the hospital five minutes ago."

"Okay, Lindy. I know Trent's cute, and a nice guy, but be careful around him."

"Why should I be careful? I've never had somebody watch out for me like that."

"I don't want you getting hurt."

"I can't see him hurting a fly."

"That's the scary part. He might never realize he did it."

"Okay. What's the deal? You clearly don't trust him. Tell me."

"I don't want to go into details. But, I've never seen my sister so hurt in my life."

* * *

Quinn entered the Morgendorffer home with a single shopping bag. Worry lined her face as she closed the door. She called toward the living room. "Dad, I'm home."

"Hey, there. You're home early. You and your friend buy out the stores?" Jake asked from the sofa.

"She ran late and didn't feel well, so we didn't get much shopping done."

"Too bad. Hope your friend feels better soon."

"Yeah, so do I. I'll be in my room."

Quinn went upstairs and walked down the hall. She stopped by Daria's old room and peeked in. The dusty, plywood floor was littered with construction debris. New window casements had been installed to eliminate the bars. The walls were covered in half-finished drywall. Quinn closed the door and went into her room. She tossed the bag toward her closet and picked up the telephone. Checking the number taped to her mirror, she quickly dialed.

Karen Myerson reached over to pick up the ringing wall phone. Textbooks and notebooks were scattered around where she sat on her bed.

"Hello."

"Hi. Karen?"

"Yes, Quinn. I suppose you want to talk to your sister."

"Please."

Karen covered the mouthpiece. "You hear that?"

Daria Morgendorffer was at the computer on her desk. She saved the word processor file she was working on, rose, and walked toward her roommate. "I heard."

She took the phone and dropped down onto her bed. "Thanks."

"Hey, Quinn. Mom blow a fuse?"

"No. Can I talk to you about someone other than them?"

"I suppose, but I don't see where I can help with the old fashion crowd."

"You remember my friend from Governor's Park, Lindy?"

Daria wrinkled her forehead slightly. "That was the one you were worried about drinking?"

"That's her. I think she's getting worse."

"How so?"

"She passed out at McGrundy's last night."

"Pretty embarrassing, having to get her friends to haul her butt home. I already see that as a regular occurrence with some of the girls on the floor."

"Um. She was by herself. Her friends had left."

"Oh. That's bad. Did anything happen to her?"

"One of the band members took her home and kept an eye on her. She's okay."

"So Trent brought home another stray, and it was your friend."

"How'd you know it was Trent?"

"Mystic Spiral normally plays there on Friday nights, been doing that for quite a while now. Nick wouldn't be able to take her home, long story. Max would leave her in the Tank; he doesn't trust anybody inside his place. Jesse, well, he easily gets distracted. Trent has the good sense, and the ethics, to take somebody in.

"How do you do that?"

"Logic."

"Never mind. Look, do you have any ideas on how to help her?"

"They say that somebody like that won't really get help until they realize they need it. You mentioned before that she would quit for a week when she was worried. So, she suspects, but isn't admitting it. Try asking her to quit for a month. If she has a real problem, she probably won't be able to stay away from it that long. If she does, then I don't think she has a drinking problem, just a common sense problem."

"Thanks, I'll try that." Quinn hesitated, then said with concern, "She likes Trent."

"That's not surprising."

"You're not upset?"

"Why would I be? Oh. Quinn, I've been over that for almost two years. It's fine.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I remember how hurt you looked when he went out with that freaky goth girl. I don't want him to hurt Lindy."

Daria sighed. The memory was still painful. "Yes, I was hurt, but I've had time to get over it. That was also a very different situation. Trent's a good guy. He won't try to hurt her."

Still suspicious, Quinn said, "Okay. But I'm still going to keep an eye on him."

"Probably not a bad idea. He can forget things on occasion."

"Thanks, Sis."

"You're welcome, Sis." Daria smiled. "I hope you can help your friend. Just be careful yourself that you don't get pulled into something you're not prepared for."

"I will. Good bye."

"Bye."

Karen set down her chemistry book. "Trent? Old boyfriend?

Daria blushed slightly. "Not quite."

"Old crush?"

"Yeah."

"You still like him?"

"He's my best friend's older brother. I've kind of adopted him as mine, too."

"That reminds me. Hope you don't mind my asking. I've noticed you haven't been out on any dates. Got a boyfriend back home?"

"No. Not since last spring. Before you ask, I just haven't had the time or interest since I got here."

"Oh. I was just curious. With how pretty you are, I was kind of worried about you having so many it would be disruptive."

Daria felt very uneasy at the compliment. "Umm. Yeah. I'm a real knockout. Anyway, you don't have to worry about me having too many boyfriends, that's Quinn's department. I found that one at a time was enough."

"Hmm. Okay." Karen watched Daria out of the corner of her eye as she brought her chemistry book back up, thinking, _God. What happened to her?_

* * *

Jane settled into the chair behind the instructor's desk and looked out over the Monday afternoon study hall. _One of the joys of being a Teaching Assistant, study hall monitor_. Quinn and her friends were clustered at one table. Sandi was reading _Waif_. Interestingly, Stacy was reading _Car and Driver_.

_That's odd_. Jane thought.

Odder still, Tiffany was reading what looked like a textbook. Quinn sat next to her, occasionally making comments or pointing to something in the book.

Jane stared at the blank page of her sketchbook and pondered. _Trent hooking up with some girl from a gig is nothing new…Lindy seems nice enough, but might be an alcoholic…He doesn't need to deal with another one of those._

Jane began a sketch of Quinn, leaning toward Tiffany.

_What is it with Quinn?...She's being very protective of Lindy and suspicious of Trent…If this goes to pieces, and Quinn decides to blame it on Trent, I don't want to see him targeted by that Morgendorffer revenge streak._

She sketched a while longer, and then sighed.

_I need to talk to her…Ugh_.

"Joey! Not now, I'm busy." Quinn barked at the black haired boy seated at the adjacent table.

Jane grinned. Putting on a firm voice, Jane said, "Ms. Morgendorffer. Come up here please."

Quinn gave Jane a surprised look, and then shot a dirty one at Joey. She marched to the front of Jane's desk.

Jane placed both hands on the desk, rose, and leaned forward, right in front of Quinn. She quietly said, "React like I'm chewing you out."

Quinn nodded unevenly.

"You're worried about Lindy, I'm concerned about Trent. We need to figure out what's going on here."

Quinn hesitantly nodded.

"Good. I'll stop by your house after school."

Quinn cringed, but nodded.

Jane said, at a room-level voice, "Okay, now please return to your seat." She looked straight at Joey. "You! No more of that either."

* * *

Quinn sat at the kitchen table, nervously awaiting the doorbell. The ringing brought her to her feet and she ran to the door. She opened it and quickly pulled Jane inside.

"You know I can't let anybody see you here."

"Fraternizing with faculty members. I know. It's not that long since high school."

Quinn directed Jane upstairs. "My room."

Jane was unsettled to see the dust and drywall scraps near the door to Daria's old room. "Good thing it's closed."

Quinn dropped two pillows on the carpet and sat down on one. "Okay, let's talk."

Jane sat a little awkwardly, not being used to sitting down that far while wearing a skirt. "I'll start. I'm concerned about your animosity toward Trent. I know you two never really hit it off well, but you almost seemed pissed at him."

"Trent hurt my sister real bad. I don't want him to hurt Lindy."

"What?"

"When you two stayed here because your family freaked out, Trent paraded that trashy …thing…in front of the house. I learned what a broken heart looks like; I saw it in Daria that night."

"Quinn, he didn't know how Daria felt. She never told him."

Quinn yelled, "Bullcrap! I can't believe Trent is that stupid. Everybody knew how Daria felt about him. She didn't have to tell him."

"Trent can be oblivious at times."

"That bad? She got a rash for a while when he was around. She could hardly speak. She was always blushing. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Tad Gupty could have figured it out."

Jane's confidence in her argument fell. "Umm. Well, yeah. He didn't know she was watching. He thought Daria and I were talking."

"So? Why did he have whatshername come over here?"

"I think she invited herself."

"Even if you're right and he didn't know, he hurt her. He's either very cruel, or very thoughtless."

Jane's voice was quiet. "You're right. He's not cruel. But I guess he doesn't realize what he does sometimes. However, I know Daria doesn't hold any hard feelings against him for that. You need to try to do the same."

Quinn slumped back some. "Daria has always been a much better person than I was. I have a harder time letting go of things like this. I'll try. Why are you so worried about Lindy? She's really nice."

"You said she had a drinking problem. Trent, um, has had some bad experiences with that."

"Oh."

"Trent tends to try to keep helping far too late. He's been hurt that way before."

"Okay. I can see you're worried too."

"And to be honest, I don't like cleaning vomit out of the car."

"When I stopped by Saturday, you were cleaning up after Lindy, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Eww."

Jane rocked back and forth in thought for a few seconds, before speaking. "They're both adults: we can't really stop them from seeing each other. Why don't we stay in contact over this, and give them an unknown line of communication. If Lindy tells you that Trent is being stupid, you can let me know, and I will light a fire under his butt to straighten up. If Lindy starts to get weird, I can let you know and you can give her some hints. If things start to go south, maybe we can reduce the damage."

"Sounds like you want to help them get together."

"I want to avoid people getting hurt. This is a case where we need to be there for those we care about. Agreed?"

"Deal."

* * *

Jane jogged down the steps to the basement, two and three at a time. Trent was lost in his own mind as he played guitar. Jane beelined to the amp and yanked the guitar cord out.

Trent jumped and looked toward Jane. "Hey! What are you doing? I was in the middle of a good riff."

Jane's voice was strained and she was little winded by the run from the Morgendorffers. "I don't care. We're going to talk."

Trent set the guitar on its stand. "Okay. If it's about the food, I'll buy some more to make up what the band ate."

"The hell with that!" Jane stared directly into Trent's eyes. "Do you remember when we stayed over at Daria's, during the last Lane home invasion?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me, exactly. What did you know about Daria's feelings for you?"

"What brought this on?"

"Tell."

Trent shuffled, but couldn't break eye contact with his sister. "I knew she had a crush on me."

"And you did nothing but waltz off with Monique?"

"Jane. It's…more complicated than that."

"You knew, and avoided her? How stupid are you?"

Trent's frustration allowed him to break away. "Jane, how stupid are you?"

"What?"

"She was seventeen. It wouldn't have worked out."

"Couldn't you have tried?"

"That would've hurt her a hell of a lot more. I couldn't do that."

"But."

"I never meant to hurt her that night, I still feel bad about that. But, in the long run, what I did was the right thing."

"Umm.

"That doesn't mean that we don't care for each other. We've talked this out. She's like another little sister for me, and she feels the same."

Jane limply sat down on an amp. "Was I so wrong to want you two together?"

"Not entirely. Your intentions were good."

"So, I should start a paving company?"

Trent put his arm around her and pulled her up. "You're a Lane. You let your heart get ahead of your brain."

"So that's it."

"Come on. I'll buy you a slice."

* * *

Quinn looked across the food court booth at Lindy. Half-eaten salads were in front of them.

"Friday night scared you, didn't it?"

"Yes. When I woke up in a strange house, I was terrified."

"That'd do it for me, too."

"I was lucky that Trent is the one who found me, and kept an eye on me."

"Lindy, I'm worried also. You once told me you would quit drinking for a week to prove you can."

"I'm doing that now. I haven't had a drink since I woke up Saturday."

"Will you try something for me?"

"What?"

"Instead of a week, could you stop for a month? To show you can."

"It means that much to you?"

"Of course. You're my friend."

"I'll do it, only because you're the first friend to be this concerned about me. Everyone else just laughs it off. After the other night, I've gotten worried."

"Don't forget, you have people to help, including Trent."

"You're not worried about him anymore?"

"I'm still concerned. But, I have to accept your judgment. In a way, you can also rely on Jane."

"I don't know; she seemed pretty cold toward me."

"If helping you is good for her brother, she will."

* * *

"Come on in; set that down on the table." Lindy directed Trent toward her kitchen.

He carried the takeout from Good Times Chinese to the table and started to separate the orders.

Lindy brought over two glasses of ice water and sat down. "Thanks for picking up dinner."

"No problem." Trent sat after he finished his task.

"Trent, your sister's right to be concerned about my drinking. Quinn's concerned, and so am I. I'm going to try to not drink anything for a month. Will you help me?"

Trent reached across the table and took her hand. "I'll be there. Don't worry."

"Thanks. Quinn will also be there for me, and she seems to think that Jane will too, if only for you."

"Jane's a bit protective."

"Isn't that usually the other way around, the big brother is protective of the little sister?"

"I guess it works both ways. Jane's been the one who's held things together around here for the last several years."

Lindy smiled. "I kind of got that impression."

The two quietly ate for a while. Lindy took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and breathed out.

"Quinn was worried about me seeing you. Tell me, what happened between you and Daria?"

Trent looked at her with great sadness in his eyes. "Have you ever been in the situation, no matter how you felt about somebody, that you could only hurt them in the long run?"

* * *

Jane signed the painting with a hint of sadness. The composition was dark, the silhouette of a man sat on a hilltop, overlooking a shadowed, forested landscape. The sky was overcast, with a single bright star showing through clouds on the horizon, where the man was looking.

"Dammit. I hate it when you're right about things like this."

* * *

Quinn watched her date's car drive away. As she walked to the front door of her home, she realized that there'd been absolutely nothing memorable, or interesting, about the evening. Two people out on a date, each considering the other arm candy, and more interested in being seen than in learning about the other. She thought about Lindy with Trent that night. Quinn sat on the front doorstep and rested her chin on her hands.

"I've been out on a nice, safe date, with no possibility of going anywhere. Lindy, you're out with a man that hurt Daria more than I ever want to know, but has shown how he can care and be trusted. Which of us has taken the bigger risk?"

* * *

Trent drove down the darkened streets. The early morning stillness helped to calm him. He wondered what had come over him that evening. He'd told Lindy things he had barely told himself. He'd never told his sister, and probably never would. He'd told Daria part, but not everything. Trent thought back to when he almost said too much to Daria, the day after he broke up with Monique:

"_Too bad you're not a few years older, huh? I could take you out."_

The chorus of a Blue Öyster Cult song, filtered into his thoughts.

_Well, I'll wrap myself in cities I travel  
I'll wrap myself in dreams  
I'll wrap myself in solitude  
But I wish I could wrap myself  
In thee._

He hoped he'd done the right thing.

* * *

Lindy sat at her kitchen table, the events of the evening unfolding in her mind. The craving for a drink pushed from the back of her thoughts. The situation with Trent was proving to be more complicated than she anticipated. The craving pushed harder and Lindy walked to the far cupboard. She thought more about what he said and what it meant. The craving moved her hand behind the canned goods to the hidden bottle. Lindy pulled it out and stared at it for several minutes. With a shaking hand, she turned the cap and tossed it into the trash. She gulped and took a deep breath. A tear rolled down her cheek as she tipped the bottle, and poured the contents down the sink.

"If he can do that for what is right, I can do this for what is right."

* * *

Quotes from:

_Lane Miserables_ By Anne D. Bernstein  
_In Thee_ By A. Lanier – copyright Sony Music

My appreciation to: Kristen Bealer, Mahna Mahna, Steven Galloway, BetweentheLines, Roger E. Moore, Isa Yo-Jo, Parker-man, Hiergargo, Ranger Thorne, and Decelaraptor at PPMB for advice and support.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading and detailed suggestions.

July 2004  
Revised January 2005


	4. Freshman Spread

Disclaimer: This Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the fourth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Freshman Spread**

The ringing alarm on the right side of the windowsill was stopped by a well-placed hand rising and dropping directly on top of it.

"_Oh me, oh my. A lovely day is dawning. Oh, what a joy I didn't wake up dead_."

Daria shook her head. "I'm going to kill Trent for telling me about that dream."

She sat on the side of her bed and reached to the left side of the windowsill to pick up her glasses. Daria covered her eyes with her other hand.

"Okay, you can hit the room lights."

Karen sat at the new computer on her work desk. She had the desk lamp on; behind her was an oriental print, folding room screen. It blocked light from reaching the sleeping end of the dorm room. She reached to the other side of the door and flipped the switch for the main room light.

"Good morning."

Daria softly groaned, blinked her eyes a few times, and then put on her glasses. "I agree to morning. Good has yet to be determined."

Karen folded the screen and set it against the wall. She was barefoot, wore short, cut-off jeans and a white t-shirt, emblazoned "Georgia FFA 1999".

"Coffee's ready."

Dressed in her typical sleepwear of a t-shirt, shorts, and socks, Daria made her way to the coffee maker atop her dresser. She spooned sugar and powdered "milk-like product" into a travel mug, added coffee, and stirred.

"Thanks."

Capping the mug, she picked up a zippered toiletry kit from the end of the dresser and headed out the door.

"If I'm not back in thirty minutes, send a rescue party."

"Will do."

Holding the coffee mug before her like Diogenes' lamp, Daria slowly made her way down the hall to the communal bathroom. A passing woman in a pale yellow bath robe and waist-length black hair greeted Daria with a muttered, "Morning."

"Hm. Morning, Anna."

Once inside, Daria found the room contained three other floor residents: Jenn, a roundish girl with narrow glasses and brown hair; Carly, an African girl with severely short hair; and Robin, a tall brunette.

Daria muttered greetings, by name, to each, who returned the favor in various levels of coherence.

She went through her morning routine, finishing by carefully brushing her full, auburn hair.

Feeling human again, Daria returned to her room. She booted up her computer and opened an overhead cabinet to retrieve a box of toaster pastries. She pulled one out and began to nibble on it cold while waiting for the computer. Alternating between food and coffee, Daria checked her email, scanned her morning news page, checked the weather and followed a couple of online communities.

Karen looked up from the bowl of grits she was eating. "How can you eat those things?"

Daria smiled at her roommate. "Even though I lived in Texas more years than I want to remember, I can't figure out how anyone can eat that wallpaper paste."

"It's an acquired taste. Helps to make my own, you just can't get good grits in Boston."

"Figures you would try."

Daria finished her breakfast and moved to her closet. After opening the door, she removed her sleepwear and deposited them in a laundry basket within. Rummaging through her dresser, she located fresh undergarments and put them on, also dropping the used items in the basket. She pulled a pair of pants from a hanger and started to put them on.

"These jeans are tight."

"Hmm?"

"I must have gained some weight. My jeans are tight."

"So, you do notice your body."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Daria replied with annoyance.

"What it sounds like. Except for the care you lavish on your hair, you seem to ignore or hide your body."

"I just don't get overly concerned about my appearance."

"I don't think so."

"I dress simply and functionally. How does that define concerned?"

Karen was thoughtful for a moment. "Daria, you're concerned the other way. You go to a lot of effort and worry to conceal what you look like."

Daria replied irritably, "I don't like to be judged on my appearance."

"Really? I think you dress specifically so that people will judge your appearance as plain."

Daria's eyes narrowed, she tugged to pull up the zipper on her pants. She quickly located a light, slightly oversized sweatshirt, yanking it down abruptly over her head. Her face displayed deep frustration

"I'm not interested in discussing this."

"I can tell. But, I'll be here if you change your mind."

Daria put on some socks, and quickly added her boots. She tied with practiced speed, and then grabbed a backpack from the floor next to her desk and opened the door.

Daria's eyes were wide with anger. "See you later."

* * *

Daria swiftly walked along the sidewalk next to the central quad, her anger palpable to all around. Students passing by steered to give her a wide berth.

Daria thought about what had happened. _Why am I so upset?...Freshman spread is a common occurrence…Students eat irregularly and with less care, and spend more time sedentary…Five to ten pound is the common amount._

Daria stopped outside Warner Hall, her destination.

_Because it forces me to do one of two things I abhor, diet or shop. Damn._ Daria walked up the stairs to face her first class of the day, Advanced Freshman Composition.

* * *

Karen sat at a booth in the main cafeteria, toying with her lunch more than eating.

"Hey. Is this seat taken?"

She looked up to see Derek, a fellow student in General Biology.

"Nope. Have a seat if you like."

"Cool."

Derek tore into his sub sandwich like it was the first thing he'd eaten in a week. About halfway through, he stopped and looked up.

"You okay?"

"Just thinking."

"Anything I can do?"

Karen stared ahead for a while. "Do you remember my roommate, Daria?"

"Little thing, reddish hair, glasses, kind of quiet?"

"That's her. Please bear with me. How do you think she looks?"

"She has a nice face, hard to tell more with the clothes she wears." Derek suddenly looked concerned. "Ah, man. She's not having some kind of eating problem?"

"Hmm?"

"Like, not eating and hiding it with the clothes."

Karen gave a frustrated sigh. "She does look like she's doing that, with what she wears. To answer your question, no, she's not."

"So what's up? You wouldn't be asking if something wasn't bothering you."

"She really is nice looking, but seems to be afraid or embarrassed by the way she looks."

"Something scare her?"

"I don't know."

"Don't look at me; I want to be a gene jockey, not a shrink."

"But, you've still helped. I owe you one."

"How about dinner then?"

"I pick where we go."

"You're on."

* * *

Daria sat under a tree, picking at the sandwich she grabbed from the Raft Sandwich Shop. She dejectedly thought about her options.

_A Quinn-like regime of diet soda and carrot sticks...Blech…Fighting my way into stores for more clothes shopping…Also blech._

Daria watched one the campus squirrels lope up close to her. It raised itself up to an upright position and struck a cute, begging pose.

"Sorry, nothing for you today. From the looks of it, you could stand to lose a little weight too."

Daria watched as the squirrel stared at her for a while, and then moved off toward some other students. A mix of worry and anger crossed her face.

_Why am I so mad at Karen?...Because she was right?...No…I'm not hiding…I make an effort not to be concerned about appearance…Why do I do that?…Because you don't like to be judged that way…Why is that?...Because it is completely shallow…Completely?_

Daria shook her head violently. "Time to stop that line of questioning."

* * *

Karen sat in the student union, by one of the pay phones. She stared at the two columns of notes she had jotted down about what might be going on with Daria. She shook her head and thought.

_Her body image problem is sounding serious…She reacted badly real fast…I must have been close…This is too much like Laura…No, this can be stopped short if something is done now…But, I don't know what really is going on…I need more information…No chance of getting to her diary in that lockbox…She has a sister._

She fumbled in her purse and pulled out a phone card and an address book. Dialing, she muttered, "I hope I can catch her."

Quinn entered the empty house and gave a sigh. With how much her parents worked, and her friends now going off to separate interests, she was home, alone, more often. She found herself going on fewer dates now, too. Many of the boys she had gone out with before held no interest, and her reputation for appearance dates had caught up with her. Fewer boys were interested in taking her out, when they knew that there would be no future in it. Maybe if she attended a school with more than ninety seniors, she could find more dates. She thought of how happy Daria was for much of the time she dated Tom. Lindy and Trent seemed to be happy together, too. It was two weeks, and Lindy was still clean. The ringing telephone interrupted, so she walked to the kitchen to get the cordless phone.

"Hello."

"Hi, Quinn. It's Karen."

"Karen? Is Daria alright?"

"Physically, yes. Emotionally, I'm getting worried."

"She can be that way."

"Do you mind if I ask a few questions about her? This may get personal."

Quinn was uncertain. "Um. Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out what's bothering her. She won't talk."

"Not surprising."

"Quinn, you are currently my only source for good information."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm your sister's friend, and I'm worried. Please hear me out for a while. I'll back off if you ask me too, but could you please try to help me some?"

Suspicious, Quinn said, "Okay."

"How long has she been hiding her appearance?"

"She hasn't worried about how she looked for as long as I can remember. Not that I haven't tried to help her."

"I'm not talking about worrying; I'm talking about outright hiding what she looks like."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. She wears shapeless clothes that hide what she looks like. The only people here that have a clue to her real appearance are the girls on this floor that she has to share a bathroom with."

"I never thought of it that way. I just pictured it as a kind of cluelessness on her part."

"Quinn. This may not be easy to talk about. Did somebody attack her?"

"What!"

"Was she assaulted? Or something that would make her ashamed or afraid of how she looks."

"No. Nothing like that ever happened."

"Something happened. Nobody develops a self-image problem like this in a vacuum."

Quinn's face paled and she sat down at the table. "I think I know what happened."

"What?"

"Me."

There was a long pause before Karen asked, "How could you be responsible?"

"For as long as I can remember, everyone's considered me cuter than Daria. I always took attention from her, even for things like her birthday. By the time I started school, she'd stopped trying to compete against me for attention."

"Go on."

"When she was twelve, I started calling her cousin because I was embarrassed by how she looked. I openly insulted her and tried to give her makeovers every chance I had. I wore her clothes to a Fashion Don'ts party. I didn't publicly admit she was my sister again until last year."

"Ouch. Quinn, you may have contributed, but you're not the only reason. You weren't around her all the time, particularly in school. What about that?

"Starting in first grade, the other kids called her egghead or four-eyes. She's had glasses for as long as I can remember, and has always been bookish. Mom and Dad got called into school a lot because she wouldn't associate with the other children. By high school, she was the brain with ugly clothes."

"From the time I've known her, it's clear she's brilliant. I take it she was quite advanced as a child."

"She was reading things like _Black Beauty_ in first grade."

"Wow. I'm starting to get a picture now. Was she always small for her age?"

"As much as I can remember."

"How often did she get complimented on how she looked when she was growing up, compared to compliments on her intelligence?"

"Um…Um…I can't really think of her getting complimented for anything but her intelligence. She also got picked on for that. But it was also the way she fought back.

"How does this sound? She was a small, intelligent girl with glasses, who was often picked on by other students and felt alienated from them. At home, she couldn't compete with you for attention. So, in defense, she withdrew into her books and tried to separate herself from the world that hurt her. As she got older, she developed a body that attracted the kind of attention she no longer knew how to accept, and associated with people that caused her emotional pain. Therefore, she began to hide her appearance so she wouldn't have to deal with it."

"God. That makes so much sense. That would explain why she avoided her prom, or why she was so freaked out at that award dinner."

"Fill me in."

"For her prom, she called it an overpriced high school dance. She and Tom spent the night watching _Carrie_. Last summer, Mom had some big, black-tie function with the Bar Association; the entire family had to be there. We got Daria fitted for a gown and she, well, my Dad almost fainted. Mom insisted she take it with her, you should see her in it some time. She was the center of attention for the young men, I would have loved it. She was looking really freaked out, until she fled with some author lady.

"If I'm right, she must have been almost in a panic, or total disgust."

"But when she had to wear it for some honor society function with several of her friends, she seemed to be more comfortable."

"Those were people that knew her for herself and not her looks."

"That's right. How come we never saw what was going on?"

"I speculate that you were too young to understand what was occurring, and the process was probably so gradual that your parents made the same assumption you did. I guess because I saw things from the outside, it was more obvious."

"But why didn't her friends see it?"

"I don't know. But I suspect because I'm seeing her fresh, but still in fairly intimate situations that even her close friends, or you, wouldn't see her. It was one of those that finally made me worry."

"How?"

"We have to get dressed in the same room every morning. Well, I've known from the beginning that she didn't dress to impress. But, I saw that she cared about herself some, her hair takes a lot of tending to, and she's meticulous about it. So, it's been dawning on me that she was hiding more than not caring. A couple weeks ago, I said how pretty she was, and that I had been worried about her being followed by a bunch of guys. Her reaction was one of disbelief and sarcasm."

"I can see that, she wouldn't want to be compared to how I used to behave."

"Actually she did make a snide remark about you. Back to my point, that started to get me worried. Any other girl I know would have appreciated the compliment; Daria was noticeably uncomfortable with it. Not just that she intellectually didn't want to. Something deeper emotionally disturbed her about it. She made a comment today about her jeans being tight and that she must have gained some weight."

"Daria was worried about her weight? Now that's news. I could never figure out how she ate the way she did and didn't gain weight."

"Gaining a few pounds during your first semester of college is common. I've probably put on five pounds myself. The important thing is, when I made a crack about her actually paying attention to her body, she got very upset. The idea hit me then that she might be trying to hide her appearance, when I mentioned that, she stormed out of the room."

"Oh. You know, you mentioned her hair. I think some part of her was trying to show off a bit. You saw what she was wearing when you arrived?"

"Green jacket, black skirt, and boots."

"She wore that through most of high school, weather permitting. The jacket hid her upper body and hips well, it was so bulky. But the rest, a short black skirt and form-fitting boots. Shows a lot of leg. Everyone at school knew how nice her legs were. But nobody said anything, didn't want to be at the receiving end of her sarcasm. Over time, the effect of the jacket and her attitude made people forget about them, unless you asked."

"I see. Thanks for answering things for me. I still have a lot of thinking to do before I talk to Daria again. Could you keep a lid on this with your parents? Until we have confirmation of my hypothesis, I don't want them going psycho on us. Even after, it may not be a good idea."

"You can trust me on that."

"Quinn, I'm not going to sugar-coat this. It looks like you did contribute a lot to her problem. But probably no more than she contributed to some of yours, or that I contributed to my brother, or he shared with me. Siblings traumatize each other; it's what they do best. Instead of blaming yourself, worry about helping her."

"I'll do what I can. I've always kind of looked up to her, even when I thought she was embarrassing me. Now I realize just how much I was hurting her. When did life get so complicated?"

"The day we were born, we're just now noticing. Look, thanks for your help. Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Mmm. Yeah."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Quinn turned off the phone and returned it to the base unit. Her hand went to the answering machine, stopped, and then moved away. She methodically turned and walked upstairs to her room. Once inside, she locked the door, and set her books down on the floor.

"Daria, I'm sorry." She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

* * *

Daria stared up from her bed. It was early evening and she had little motivation for anything.

"No cracks, what a boring ceiling."

Daria sat up and turned to look out the window.

"I've been thinking about things all afternoon…Let's analyze the situation and settle it……I've gained weight due to simple chemistry and biology…Caloric intake has exceeded caloric expenditure, the difference converted to fat…Have I significantly changed my eating habits?...Sugar tarts or toast for breakfast: no change…Generic school lunch: again, no change…In-dorm cooking or cafeteria food for dinner: probably better for me than frozen lasagna or Dad's cooking…Minimal exercise in mandatory PE class: same…No involvement in sports: also no difference…Primary transportation: on foot…Same again."

Daria looked back and forth some at the interior quad. "I'm not walking halfway across town or more twice a day. That's the difference."

Satisfied at finding the probable cause, she stood and went to her desk. She pulled a local map from the shelf, opened it, and sat down. "Walking for exercise, the danger has arrived. I'm turning into my mother."

"Now the other problem…Why am I so mad at Karen?...She only made a simple wisecrack and I took it too seriously…I was mad at myself and took it out on her…Everybody has to deal with weight issues, I'm just not used to it…I should apologize."

Daria nodded. "I really do need to. She was being observant and having a little fun."

Daria leaned back in the chair and continued. "That's not all of it…Oh, yeah…The hiding thing…Which I don't do…Then what else can you call it…Rebellion against conformity…Then why the terror?...It was only a case of nerves…Oh, really?...What about how much you hated yourself for dressing like Quinn?...That was a special case…Why change back so soon?...Why stay dressed like an airhead idiot?...What about the poster?...You know, beauty has an ugly price…What motivated…"

The door opened, and Karen walked in.

"Hi. How're you doing?"

Daria jumped at the interruption; then looked down. "I owe you an apology."

Karen closed the door and sat at her desk seat, resting her arms on the chair back. She rolled the chair close to Daria, conveniently in front of the door. "I'm listening."

"Karen, you may not believe this, but I've never had a weight gain like that before. I've always considered myself inactive, but I realized that I walked miles a day for years, first around Highland, then in Lawndale. Everything is closer here, so I haven't been walking as much, hence the weight. It scared and upset me; I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Anything else?"

"Like what?"

"What really got you upset."

"What do you mean?"

"That you're hiding how you look."

Daria was suddenly angry. "I am not."

"Daria, you are. I'm going to have to use your main weapon against you, logic. The only way for me to be convincing is to present my hypothesis to you as clearly and factually as possible. I can't soften this any, either. I've spent most of the day on this. You're probably going to get more upset, but I called and got some background information from your sister."

"What! How dare you start snooping around like that?"

"Because you're my friend"

"You have a strange way of showing it."

"I'm worried about this self-image problem of yours. I've already had one person ask me if you were anorexic and hiding it. That's not a good sign. I don't want you hurting yourself."

"When did you become a psychologist?"

"I'm not. I'm a concerned friend trying her best. You don't have an eating disorder now, but, you know as well as I do, that something like that can be easily triggered when somebody has a low opinion of their own body. I've already been through one friend doing that."

Karen stopped and choked slightly, before covering her face for a moment. She inhaled and said, "I don't know if I could live through a repeat."

Daria abruptly stood. "Get out of the way! I want to leave." Her voice was filled with hate.

Firmly, Karen responded. "No. Not until you've heard what I have to say."

Daria backed up a step in frustration. "You're bigger, stronger and more physically fit. I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No."

Daria sat down, folding her arms in front. "Fine. Talk."

"I learned that you were picked on from a very early age for your glasses and your intelligence. Other children called you names and took advantage of you being smaller and weaker. Your sister hogged attention at home, and was perceived as prettier. You've mostly lived with your books and learning. You were perceived as a brain."

Daria winced at some of the memories the comment sparked. "Okay, primarily correct."

"You came to associate an attractive appearance with those that hurt you."

Daria turned away from Karen. "Yes."

"While what satisfaction you had came from your intelligence."

"Yes."

"As you grew up, you started to hide yourself more and more to avoid the fact that you were becoming attractive, like those hurting you. As you developed as a woman, this exacerbated the problem."

Daria nodded.

"Now, you've reached the point where you fear or hate your own looks. You feel like a traitor to yourself when you do allow your attractiveness to be seen."

Daria remained silent and motionless. Karen had built the case well. Daria's mind ran the logic against her self-perception, and found her perception flawed in the face of the theory Karen presented.

"But a small part of you still wants to be appreciated for how you look. Hence, the way you care for your hair, or how much you would show off your legs in high school. You wanted somebody to see through and say you were pretty, without hurting you."

More silence. Daria barely allowed herself to think, _Who doesn't?_

"Daria?"

Daria's analytical mind grasped the truth of the situation and cast down the illusions she had lived with. The resulting shock struck deeply and painfully. Her shoulders shook slightly. Karen gently spun the desk chair around so she could see. Daria's eyes were tightly closed and wet. Her face was strained as she fought back tears.

She choked out a whisper. "Jane said it, particularly in her paintings. Trent did, too. Mom and Dad tried."

"What about your boyfriend last year?"

Daria opened her eyes, looked straight at Karen. "A few times."

Karen shifted nervously in her chair. "You know I'm not doing this to hurt you?"

Daria nodded.

"Am I right about what's been happening to you?"

Another nod.

"I don't have any fast answers. I'll stay here as long as you want me to. I've lost one friend before, I don't want to loose another. I think you should talk with your sister; this is probably upsetting her as much as you. Talk to Jane. See if your friend's diaries have any wisdom. Finally, consider some professional help."

Daria managed a small smile.

Karen rolled her chair next to Daria and put an arm across her shoulder. "As for the weight problem, go for more walks. Diet soda tastes nasty."

Daria smiled again.

"Do you want to leave now?"

Daria managed a very quiet, "No."

Do you want me to leave?"

"No."

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, propped up on folded-over pillows. She still wore her clothes from that morning. Her eyes were sad and moist behind her glasses. Other than "2:47" glowing red on the alarm clock, the only light in the room was the small light clipped to the book she was reading. Karen breathed softly where she lay on her bed. The book had a green, cloth-cover, with "1933" neatly written on the spine. Beside the bed, an old steamer trunk, full of similar volumes, sat open. The set of diaries were from Theresa Blaine, a woman Daria had read to at the Better Days Retirement Home during high school. When Mrs. Blaine had died, she willed it to Daria, as the one person she thought would appreciate it.

_**July 27,**_

**_Mark arrived for our date tonight holding a single rose, as he put it, "For the most beautiful woman I've ever known." That felt like a sunbeam shining through the window on a chill, February morning. It warmed the soul, as well as skin. He is such a thoughtful, caring gentleman. I'm so glad I took a chance to say hi to him._**

Mrs. Blaine's diary entry made Daria think about the advice she gave Quinn over a year ago.

"_I guess because, um, you got to give people a chance. Otherwise, there's no point to the whole being-human routine."_

"I guess I need to start listening to my own advice."

She closed the book and removed the light. Holding it as a small flashlight, she gently returned the diary to its place in the trunk. "You seem to think so, too."

Daria closed and locked the trunk, and pushed it under the bed. She turned the light off and placed it on the window sill. Her glasses followed to their usual spot. Daria crawled under the blanket and tightly hugged her pillow.

Karen's eyes opened to narrow slits and she watched the barely visible, rhythmic shudder of her tormented friend. She whispered, "I hope you slay your demons."

* * *

Karen awoke and looked at her clock. 5:50. The slight glow in the room told her a desk lamp was on at the far end, behind the folding screen. She looked over at Daria's bed and saw it was empty. She forced a long yawn, of slowly increasing volume, to announce her presence.

She gently walked to the screen. Daria was writing in her diary, using the silver pen she favored for that activity.

"Hi."

"Hmm." Daria looked up through strained, red eyes. Her voice was lifeless.

"I'll fix you some breakfast."

"Thnn."

After folding the screen, Karen prepared and started some coffee, located some sugar tarts and started heating them in the small microwave. She pulled one of her small bottles or orange juice from the tiny refrigerator between her bed and closet. Once everything was ready, she placed all on a notebook and used it as a tray to carry it to Daria.

"I think you need to take the day off."

Daria looked at the presented items, then up at Karen. "Mmm." She nodded and then silently started to eat and drink, continuing to write in her diary all the while.

Karen quickly dressed herself and assembled her books for the day in her backpack. She tossed in her toiletry kit and walked to the door.

"I'll get some breakfast out this morning; it looks like you need some time alone."

Daria looked up. Her eyes showed fear and relief at being left alone.

"Don't forget what I said about talking to people."

Slow nod.

Karen grabbed a microcassette recorder from the shelf over Daria's desk.

"This tape clear?"

Daria vaguely shrugged.

Karen pulled the tape out and set in on the shelf where the recorder hand been. I'll pick up a fresh one to be safe. I've got your schedule, so I can record your classes, or get someone to."

Daria gave her a questioning look.

"You're a friend. I'll see you later."

Karen closed the door quietly. After a couple moments, she heard the lock click.

* * *

That afternoon, Jane's face showed worry and shock as she sat on her bed, talking on the phone.

"Damn, Daria. I knew you had blind spot about your looks that made you uncomfortable about them. But, I didn't realize things got that bad. I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't notice."

Daria sat on her bed. Her glasses magnified the dark circles under her red eyes.

"Don't be hard on yourself. I did a good job of covering my tracks. Even from myself."

"I'm your best friend, I should've seen it."

"Jane, it took somebody seeing things fresh, and watching me get dressed every day for almost two months, to notice."

"I watched you change in gym class for three years."

"No, like me, you paid attention to yourself. So you wouldn't see if anybody else noticed you."

"Hmm. I guess you're right."

"There might be another reason."

"And?"

"You also hid your looks in a way. The only times you seemed to wear something more flattering was when it was some kind of costume. Though in your case, it wasn't fear that motivated you, but rebellion against conformity. I think you projected that onto me."

"I always pictured us as the outcast writer-chick and art-chick. Two girls rejected by society and rejecting their looks. It didn't occur to me to think there was something more."

"Fortunately, you could take chances on how you looked, and with meeting people. Please don't lose that."

"I promise. I'll be careful."

"You better. You also may not have realized it, but you were helping me. I would not have been able to stay at the beach last summer if you hadn't been with. I certainly could not have stayed around in a wet swimsuit. Without you here, I seemed to have gotten worse again."

"Well kid, hang in there. Auntie Jane will be there in a couple months to keep an eye on you."

"I miss you. I will be happy when you start school, too."

Jane chuckled a couple moments. "Now might be a good time to tell you something Mack said to Jodie and I last summer. But was afraid to tell you."

"What does he have to do with this?"

"Toward the end of school, the senior boys privately held some interesting votes."

"I don't like the sounds of this."

"You will. Mack was proud, because Jodie was voted to have the best looking legs of the senior girls. Brittany was number two. Though he suspects Brittany's other assets inflated the vote"

"I can see that."

"You were third."

Daria laughed. "Good one, Jane."

"I was fourth."

"Wait."

"I'm not kidding. Mack showed us the numbers."

"You mean…me…they…third?"

"Yes. Hold on a minute."

She went to her dresser and rummaged around in the top drawer. She pulled out a folded sheet of paper, with most of it blacked out with marker.

"I found it. Twenty-six point two percent of the vote for Jodie, twenty-three point eight for Brittany, twenty-one point four for you, Sixteen point seven for me. I reckon we had a lot of hidden boot fetishists in the class."

"Jane, thanks. I think I needed to hear that. Wait a minute, if they voted on legs, what else did they vote for?"

"I don't know. Mack had blacked everything else out on the sheet except that. Pleaded the fifth and wouldn't provide any more details, even under threat from Jodie."

"We probably don't want to know."

"Jodie and I agreed."

There was a pause as both mentally digested the conversation.

Jane broke the silence. "Have you talked to Quinn yet?"

"She's next. If Karen was right, she probably blames herself. I wish I'd been up to calling her last night."

"I can't say I entirely feel sorry for her, but she's your sister. She wasn't in study hall today."

"I was afraid of something like that. This isn't going to be easy."

"Probably not."

"Hey, please give Trent my thanks too."

"I will."

"I should get going. Good bye."

"Take care Daria. Good bye."

Half an hour later, Jane set a framed painting on a sheet of bubble wrap. It was a view of Daria at the beach, the previous summer. She wore a blue swimsuit, sat on a beach chair and rested against the arm, apparently in conversation with a young, blond man wearing glasses. He sat upon a towel on the sand next to the chair and looked up in admiration. Jane set a photograph on top, showing the exact same scene. She folded the bubble wrap around the pair and taped it closed.

"It's a little early for your birthday, but I think you need to see this."

* * *

Daria sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the telephone in her hand.

"This is going to be the tough one."

She punched in her old home phone number and listened to the rings.

There was a slight electronic clatter before Helen's voice said, "Hello. You've reached the Morgendorffer residence. We're not able to answer right now, please leave a message at the tone and we'll get back to you as soon as possible." The tell-tale, irritating 'beep' followed.

"Hi, Quinn. It's Daria. I…um…managed to check on that stuff in the library for you. Give me a call when you get in and I'll go through it."

Daria hung up the phone. "Dammit."

She went to her desktop computer, started _Cannibal Fragfest – Millennium Edition,_ and lost herself in mindless, virtual violence.

About an hour later, Daria rushed to answer the ringing phone, leaving her game in mid-play.

"Hello."

Helen answered. "Daria, what's going on?"

Daria thought, _Damn, why is she home early_? All she managed to say was, "Huh?"

Helen spoke in a voice half dominated by anger, half by worry. "Quinn's been locked in her room since yesterday, and hasn't even checked her phone messages. Including your phony one about the library. I got off work early to check on her. Is she in some kind of trouble? Are you covering for her?"

Daria braced herself. She hadn't wanted to face her mother with this right away.

"Mom, I'll talk with you later about this. Quinn is not in trouble. Please let me talk to her, I'm sure she'll take the call."

"Daria."

"Mom. Later, please."

"I don't like what's going on."

"Trust me, I don't either. Let me talk to Quinn."

Helen said each syllable crisply and clearly. "Young lady. Do not think we are through here. We will talk when you're done with Quinn."

In a hard voice, Daria said, "Yes, we will."

Helen marched up the stairs to Quinn's room. She knocked on the door.

"Quinn! Daria is on the phone."

Moments later, Quinn peered through a crack in the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, hair in disarray. Helen was startled by her daughter's appearance.

"I got it."

She watched until her mother switched off the cordless phone.

"Thank you."

She closed the door.

"Oh my God! Daria. Are you okay?"

"I feel like I've had half my mind twisted out, thrown on the ground and stomped on. Otherwise, not bad."

"Daria! I'm serious!"

"So am I. I've had a very bad day, a worse night, followed by a gut-wrenching, mental health day. I've had a big part of my concept of self turned upside-down. Karen was right. I haven't been uncaring about my looks, I've been hiding. That kind of screwed-up self-image was a bomb waiting to go off. I think I would have dodged the bullet this time, but the odds were against me continuing to. It's been hard admitting how much I was fooling myself."

Quinn sniffed back a sob.

"It was very lucky Karen noticed something wrong, and wanted to help. I was also lucky to have a sister to help. Thank you very much."

"How can you thank me? Look at how much I messed you up."

Daria forced herself to think. _The healing will come from the truth, not the blame._

She swallowed hard. "Quinn. Did you notice how long I treated you like an idiot?"

"What?"

"I've spend too much of the night, and all day today, thinking about this. It started when we were little, when I stopped trying to compete against you for attention. Like you calling me cousin, I called you cretin. Only I started earlier, and I also didn't stop until last year."

"Daria, I was acting like I didn't have a brain."

"For the same reason I acted like I didn't have a body; you didn't want to be hurt. We were both wrong, and we were both victims. You hurt me for being smarter; I hurt you for being prettier. How about we both agree to apologize and forgive?"

"Really?"

"Quinn, I'm exhausted, and I want to get things cleared up. I bet you're probably not doing much better. This is the best way to do it. Any further mental anguish can wait until later. I apologize, and I forgive you."

"Sis, so do I, I'm so sorry. I forgive you, too."

There was almost thirty seconds of silence before Daria spoke again.

"So, how're you doing?"

"About the same as you, I think."

"Wrung-out, tired, but a little better?"

"Exactly. My mental health day wasn't a joy ride either."

"I know how you feel. I need to talk to Mom next. I'm not looking forward to this. Wish me luck."

"Good luck. Bye. I love you, Daria."

Daria choked a bit. "Bye. I love you, Quinn.

Quinn pressed the hold key on the telephone and walked to the top of the stair. She called down, "Mom. Daria wants to talk to you."

"It's about time." Helen marched to the kitchen and picked up that phone.

"Okay, Quinn."

Quinn shut off her telephone and returned to her room, closing the door. She lay down on her bed, closed her eyes, and allowed some of the previous days' tension bleed away.

"Daria! Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Yes." Daria sighed. The fatigue of the last two days was starting to overcome her. Her vision was slightly blurred, and she felt somewhat dizzy.

"Because of something that happened up here yesterday morning, Quinn and I have been dealing with the fallout of how we used to treat each other."

"What do you mean?"

"The way I used to treat Quinn as a moron, and she treated me as a visual embarrassment."

"Well, Look at Rita and me. Siblings do things like that."

"I wouldn't use the example of you and Rita's running fights. They are the exact reason Quinn and I are trying to deal with things. We don't want to spend the next thirty years at each other's throats. Mom, we were much worse than normal siblings."

"Oh." Helen realized that was a bad example. The rest of the statement sunk in. "What do you mean, much worse?"

"Major contributors to the self-image problems we both developed."

"What self-image problems? You had to go to that self-esteem class, but you graduated so quickly. You seem a little shy, but that's all."

"Considering how much you contributed, it's not surprising you didn't see it either."

"Contributed to what?"

"Things like Quinn not trying academically, because of me."

"But we always encouraged her to get better grades."

"No, you told her to. You held my success up to her as an unattainable goal. The simple fact is, I have a greater innate intelligence, and spent almost my entire life learning. Quinn couldn't compete with me academically, so she avoided it. We didn't treat her like she had intelligence, we just told her to find some. That hurt her. Similarly, Quinn was always more attractive and personable than me. I could never compete with her for attention, so avoided it. You never said I was attractive. You told me to become more attractive, like Quinn. You gave me an impossible goal, too. To the point I began to fear and loath what I looked like."

Helen paused in silent thought. She scanned her memory and could not find fault in the logic. All the parts fit into place so well. Helen's heart sank to a stunning low as she realized, once again, that she had done what she'd sworn never to do. She had treated her daughters like she and her sisters had been treated. Dark thoughts rolled in.

_What kind of other damage have I done to my children without knowing?...Why couldn't I get free of my own problems long enough to avoid giving them to Daria and Quinn?...Why was I such a failure?_

Helen's brusque tone evaporated to a faint voice. "I'm sorry. I thought we were helping. I'm…we…damn."

After two days of personal turmoil and the sleep deprivation, Daria was not prepared for another emotional rollercoaster. Her mother would be in the throes of blame and the belief she was a terrible parent. Daria knew she had to get her mother into problem-solving mode, quickly. Another trait she shared with her mother, if she could kick-start the problem-solving, Helen could compartmentalize the rest until later.

"Mom, I know. I'm not trying to punish anyone. You once told me that there's no _Parenting 101_. You were trying to address the problem, but you made mistakes. We all made mistakes in this situation. That's over. Blame will do us no good. Now we try to overcome the damage."

Helen's mind latched onto the offer. She couldn't undo the past, but she could make things better. "How can I help?"

"Be there for Quinn. We made our peace, but I still don't entirely trust her to not blame herself more. For her problem, she got over a lot of that with David's tutoring. I'm proud of how much of that she did on her own. She did well in school last year, and from what Jane tells me, she's still doing fine. She's even tutoring Tiffany during study hall."

"I will."

"Good." Daria could almost hear the gears turning in her mother's head as she shifted from self-blame to problem-solving.

"I didn't know she was helping Tiffany."

"You probably weren't supposed to. Please keep quiet about it."

Helen's voice rebounded in concern. "What about you?"

"I'm going to look into getting some professional help. In addition, Jane and Karen are more than willing to apply a swift boot when needed. They'll have the annoying habit of keeping tabs on me for a while." Daria hoped the injected levity would help to disarm her mother's renewed concern.

Helen sighed. "Okay. But, don't forget that I'm here."

"I won't. I'm sorry to bring you in so late to this. It's a real long story; I'll fill you in some time in the next couple days, when I'm a little more stable. I'm really tired after the last two days. Please take care of Quinn. I'll be fine here. Good night."

"I'll take care of Quinn. Bye, Sweetie."

Helen put the phone down on the table and rushed up the stairs. "Quinn! Quinn! Do you need to talk?"

Daria returned the telephone to the wall cradle. The full weight of her exhaustion insisted on being felt. "Turning in early sounds like a real good idea."

She staggered some as she carefully moved to her dresser. She removed the clothes she had worn since yesterday morning, and changed into fresh sleepwear. She picked up her toiletry kit from the desk and opened the door. Karen was sitting on the floor outside, filling out some kind of form. Her open backpack was beside her. She looked up at Daria with concern.

"Hey. Done with your mental health day?"

"Um. Yeah. Have you been waiting out here long?"

Karen held up several filled-out pages. "A little while"

"What is that?"

"I'm applying for a part-time job at the Franklin Park Zoo. Good experience, and I can use the cash."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. How're you doing?"

"I feel like the Gordian Knot after a visit by Alexander. It's going to take time to really come to grips with this. Don't expect me to go shopping for new clothes soon, I still hate that."

"I'm not too fond of it myself."

Daria knelt and hugged Karen with one arm. "Your boot-print has joined the honored collection on my backside. Thanks, friend."

* * *

Quotes from:

_Daria!_ By Glenn Eichler and Peter Elwell  
_Is It Fall Yet?_ By Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll

Thanks to advice and support by those at PPMB: Mike Nassour, Kristen Bealer, Mahna Mahna, Lawndale Stalker, Parker-man, Isa Yo-Jo, BetweentheLines, Steven Galloway, and qwerty.

Special thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading and commentary.

July 2004  
Revised January 2005


	5. Quinn the Tutor

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the fifth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Quinn the Tutor**

Claire Defoe saw the garment bag over Jane Lane's shoulder and laughed. Jane jogged up to the blue VW Beetle from her house and tossed the bag into the rear seat.

"Jane, I've said it before; you're incorrigible."

"Yes, I am. Please incorrige."

"Was that necessary?" Claire shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the Lane driveway.

"If I don't let them out, my head will explode."

Claire stopped in the street, shifted gears, and started down the road toward Lawndale High School.

"You know how Ms. Li feels about Halloween costumes."

"I'm exposing less skin than normal, it's very conservative, and it's something someone's mother would wear."

Claire laughed. "You're right. Are you still planning on posing?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, plus it gives me another reason if Ms. Li gets weird on me."

"I hope Pavlov brought the props over from the theater."

"They're not that heavy. If needed, I could grab a strong back and weak mind from home room to bring them over."

"I guess that would give Kevin something useful to do."

"I walked right into that one."

Claire smiled.

* * *

Quinn Morgendorffer sat at the kitchen table. She briefly looked at her father, Jake, reading the paper, and softly sighed. Despite finding it rather dull, she went back to reading the latest issue of _Waif_. Quinn was starting to understand Daria's old habit. Though little was said, she felt a quiet closeness to her father. She was almost finished with her fat-free breakfast bar when her mother, Helen, entered the room.

"Quinn, I'm so glad I caught you before you left."

Quinn thought, _Oh, no. Not again…Oh, God. I used a quote Daria said came from one of her books_.

"It's wonderful that you've been so academically successful lately, but I am a little concerned about your college applications. Fashion Club vice-president for three years looks good, but what are you going to use for extracurriculars this year?"

"Mom, I haven't had much time, what with my job at Cashman's and dating."

"Quinn, I'm not blind; you're only working two evenings a week on school days, and you haven't been on nearly as many dates as you were last year."

"Thanks, Mom. Rub it in."

"I'm just saying that I think you have a little free time for some more activities to put on your college applications. What have your friends been doing this year?"

"Sandi continued her summer job as an assistant at the TV station with her mother. She tried to host an afternoon show on teen fashion, but it was cancelled after a week. Stacy has been working on something with her dad, but won't tell us what. Tiffany has been spending a lot more time studying; she was scared by her SAT scores last year and wants to bring them up. I've been helping her during study hall."

Quinn's hand went to her mouth and her eyes widened as she realized the last slipped out.

Helen smiled and thought. _Works every time. Now I can talk to you about it without letting on that Daria told me about it last week._

"Helping Tiffany? That's wonderful. It's so generous of you to do that. We could probably get that counted as an activity for you." _Having you tutor should also help your confidence. I don't want you to loose that._

"Mom, Tiffany's always been a little…slow. She's embarrassed and would like to keep things quiet."

"You said you were doing that in study hall. Don't you think anybody would notice there?"

"The other students won't say anything about it. Ms. Lane and I have an agreement, too."

"Ms. Lane, who's…You mean Jane?"

"Yes. Sorry, she's strict about calling her that at school, kind of get in the habit."

Helen glared at Quinn. "And what kind of agreement is this?"

"I worked with Jane to help her brother on something, so she doesn't say anything to Ms. Li and the other faculty about this. Li always wants to make a big, public display of these things."

_But Jane did say something to Daria. Quinn, I need to teach you how to cut better deals on keeping things quiet._ She said to Quinn, "Any other…deals?"

"Mo—om! That's a special case. Like, I would regularly make deals with a member of the faculty." Quinn shuddered. "Ugh."

"Okay Quinn, we won't embarrass Tiffany. But would you consider tutoring somebody else?"

"I…I hadn't thought about it. I guess."

"Great! I'll call Ms. Li today and see what we can arrange."

Quinn raised a hand to her forehead. _She really set me up for that one._

* * *

The morning bell rang as the first period students settled down. Ms. Defoe stood before a curtain suspended from the ceiling in front of the class.

"Good morning class. Today we will continue our pencil techniques, using a live model in a tableau inspired by a classic American painting."

Ms. Defoe pulled the curtain aside to reveal Jane sitting on a dark-stained wood, straight-back chair, facing to the viewers left. She wore an ankle-length black dress with white lace cuffs on the sleeves, and a white lace bonnet. Her hands were clasped in her lap and feet set on a small footrest. Behind were grey theatre flats. To the left was hung a dark grey, patterned curtain. A single, small painting was hung in the middle of the flats, just to the viewer's left of Jane.

"Extra credit for those that can correctly name the painting."

Kevin Thompson blurted out. "Whoa. Ms. Lane looks, like, really old in that dress."

Jane sat still, forcing herself to stay the model and not react, while thinking, _I am going to kill him and bury him in that bridesmaid dress Daria threatened me with._

Ms. Defoe responded, "Kevin, we don't need those kinds of comments. Now please get started."

* * *

Helen sat at her office desk, wading through yet another endless pile of legal documents. She answered the buzzing telephone.

"What?"

Maryanne responded, "I have Ms. Li on line two for you."

"Oh. Thank you, Maryanne." Helen punched the button on the phone console. She put on her most pleasant voice. "Hello, Ms. Li."

"Mrs. Morgendorffer. To what do I owe this privilege?"

"My daughter, Quinn, has expressed an interest in helping other students. I was wondering if you had an opening for her to help tutor one of her classmates?"

"That's quite an unexpected offer." Ms. Li removed a folder marked "Problems To Be Solved" from a drawer of her desk. She flipped through the pages and extracted two letters.

**Dear Principal Li,**

**In light of Lawndale High School's previous record of grade irregularities and attempts to field a player beyond the Competitive Eligibility limit , the State High School Athletic Association hereby denies extended eligibility for Mr. Kevin Thompson beyond the standard four years he has already used.**

**Mr. B. T. Wentworth**

_**Dear Ms. Angela Li,**_

**_I have become extremely concerned about my son, Kevin's, progress toward graduation this year. His failure last year came as a shocking disappointment. I have learned (from his father, Douglas) that there had been a certain amount of "grade fixing" going on for student athletes. This disturbs me quite a bit, since it looks like my son was a victim of this practice, with my husband's knowledge. If Kevin does not pass and graduate with some real education this year, expect to be contacted by my lawyer._**

_**Mrs. Charlene Thompson.**_

"I think I know of just such a student."

* * *

Jane chuckled over her lunch at the student reactions at her costume. Wearing it and posing during the morning had been fun, and many of the students had reacted positively to working with a live model. _I'm starting to see what Claire gets out of teaching._

Angela Li's voice broke over her shoulder. "Ms. Lane. What is the meaning of this?"

Jane turned and innocently said, "Meaning of what?"

"You know about the ban on Halloween costumes."

"Ms. Li, this is not a Halloween costume; it is part of today's art assignments. I just didn't feel like changing before lunch." Jane leaned closer to Ms. Li. "Between you and me, getting in and out of the corset is a Grade 'A' pain in the neck."

"What kind of assignment?"

"Examining the classic painting, _Study in Grey and Black_, through the use of a live model."

"What are you talking about?"

"Whistler's mother." _Idiot._

Ms. Li raised her finger and was about to say something when the image matched with memory.

"Oooooh. Very well. Carry on." She turned and stormed out of the cafeteria.

Students in the room stared in amazement as Ms. Li retreated. Jane sat at her table with an angelic smile on her face. Later, students who saw that smile all felt that it was somehow…disturbing.

* * *

The intercom loudspeaker brayed out Ms. Li's voice into the art room. "Ms. Quinn Morgendorffer report to the principal's office."

Quinn gave an I-don't-know look to her fiends. Jane, still in her costume, motioned with one hand for her to proceed. She left the room, acutely aware of everyone's eyes following her. _What does that mean, old bag want now?_

It took only a minute to reach the office through the empty corridors. The secretary showed her directly in when she arrived.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Morgendorffer. I had a most interesting conversation with your mother today."

_Wonderful. At least now I know what this is about._

"Such thoughtful gestures to help one's fellow students cannot fail to bring honor to Lawndale High."

"Yeah. So, this must be about tutoring."

"Correct. Your student should be arriving shortly. This is a special situation, but I think you have just what it takes to succeed."

"I hope so. What kind of tutoring am I going to be doing?"

"A little bit of everything to cover the basic curriculum. Your student had some…distractions in the past that you will need to overcome. If you apply that…"

Kevin walked in through the door. "You wanted to see me, Ms. Li? Hey Quinn, cool seeing you here."

"Mr. Thompson. In light of your academic…rough edges, Ms. Morgendorffer has been selected to be your special tutor to help you smooth things out."

"But Ms. Li, why would I need help to smooth things out? I'm doing great in shop class. I know how to use a file."

"Kevin, she will be helping you to understand your other school work."

"Oh. That's cool. Hey Quinn, remember when you helped Daria and me with that science project for Ms. Barch?" Kevin puffed out his chest.

"I'll never forget it."

"Me too. Best lab grade I ever got."

"Didn't you get a D?"

"Yeah! Like I said, best lab grade I ever got."

* * *

Jane opened the front door to let Quinn in that Saturday afternoon. Quinn still wore one of her trim business dresses from work that day, and carried a pastel blue and yellow gift bag.

"This way, Quinn."

They walked to the kitchen, where Trent Lane and his recent girlfriend, Lindy, were sitting at the table. A small cake was in the center of the table, along with a serving knife. Four plates of different colors and configurations were set out next to the cake, each a product of Jane and Trent's mother, Amanda's, artistry. Along side each was a fork. A bottle of sparkling grape juice was present, along with four glasses. Lindy rose and greeted Quinn with a hug.

"Thanks for coming."

Quinn handed Lindy the bag, "For you."

Lindy pulled out a dark blue scarf with a fine lace-like pattern in gold thread along the margin.

"You shouldn't have."

"You deserve it. You haven't had a drink in four weeks, and you're planning to stay that way."

Lindy placed the scarf down and poured juice into the glasses. She handed one to each and the last for herself.

"Thank you everyone, for helping me through this. I know this is a little early, today makes four weeks sober, but it will be tough to get everyone together on Tuesday for the actual one month mark. You made me see what I was, so I was able to get into a program for real help. I owe you all." She raised her glass, and all took a drink.

"Quinn, you're the first person to show any worry about me, and made the suggestion that got me on my way. Jane, I know you're mostly looking out for your brother, but your watchful eye has been a great help. Trent, you saved me from my irresponsibility and have stayed by my side since." She added in thought. _Plus, knowing what you gave up gave me the final push I needed to do this._

Jane shuffled her feet and looked down slightly. "I had my doubts, but you've proven them wrong, at least up to now. Congratulations."

Quinn said, "I knew you could do it with a little help. I'm really happy for you."

Trent pulled Lindy close and gave her a kiss. "I knew you could. Quinn, Janey, I also want to thank you for helping Lindy."

"Yeah, Trent. Enough of that stuff. We have cake to eat." Jane picked up the knife and began to slice through the cake.

* * *

Jane slowly moved through her typical Monday morning fog toward the bathroom. Her father, Vincent's, voice startled her into near wakefulness.

"I'm developing in there; you won't be able to use it this morning."

"Dad? When did you show up?"

"About three this morning. I'm still on Uzbek time, so I decided to get some developing done instead of waking your mother."

"Dad, I have to get to school. You need to open the bathroom."

"Oops. Sorry. You're a senior now, aren't you?"

Jane's fist hit the wall. Her voice was hard and precise. "Dad, I graduated last year. But, I'm not in the mood to talk about that. I work at the school now. I'm going downstairs to fix some coffee. You have five minutes to clear your stuff enough for me to use the bathroom, or I will clear it with a large broom." Jane stalked past her father and made straight for the kitchen.

"Graduated? They grow up so fast. Guess I better clear some space for her in there." Vincent entered the bathroom and began to clear away his equipment and chemicals.

A couple minutes later, Jane sat in the kitchen, watching the coffee drip into the carafe, when a piercing, female scream finished waking her up.

"Damn." Jane ran up the stairs to find Lindy, clad only in a t-shirt that just reached the middle of her thighs, staring at a shocked Vincent standing in the bathroom door.

Lindy was yelling, "Who the hell are you?"

Vincent was able to utter, "Um, I'm Vincent, I live here."

"Could have fooled me."

Jane reached Lindy and rested a hand on her shoulder. Lindy jumped at the touch, then relaxed upon seeing Jane.

Jane quickly said, "Lindy, this is my father, Vincent. Dad, this is Lindy, Trent's girlfriend. Dad, you have a lot you need to catch up on. Lindy, I have dibs on the bathroom."

* * *

Fifteen minutes after school ended, Quinn sat in the school library. She was waiting for Kevin, who still had not arrived for his first session.

"I'm going to kill him."

The familiar "smooth" voice called, loudly, from the front door. "I'm ready for my one-on-one time with you, Quinn."

The librarian glared at Kevin, made a face, shook her head, and went back to reading.

Quinn slid down in her chair. Kevin reached the table and sat down. Quinn said in a harsh whisper, "Where have you been?"

In a normal room voice, he replied, "Oh. No big deal. Ms. Barch had me writing on the board again."

"Kevin, we're in the library, keep it down, will you?"

"Why? It's not like I'm embarrassed to be seen with you. You still look hot."

"Kevin, if you don't keep quiet, they will throw us out."

"Hey, we're too popular for them to throw us out."

A matronly voice announced from behind Kevin, "No, you aren't. Both of you, out. Now."

"But, we were only…"

Quinn put her hand over his mouth, and moved directly into his face. "Say one more thing, and you will wish you were still wearing your football cup."

"Bumph?"

Quinn glared directly into his eyes. Kevin remembered Daria doing something similar, and he backed away without saying a word.

Quinn grabbed his sleeve and pulled. "Follow me."

After exiting the library, she turned him to look directly at his face. "Kevin, don't embarrass me like that again."

"Sorry."

"We need a place for these tutoring sessions, since you can't seem to behave in there."

"What about your place? I loved watching the Pigskin Channel there."

"No. We're not going to my house, and you're not going to watch the Pigskin Channel."

"Aww."

"Your house. I will meet you at your Jeep in five minutes. Put the top up, I don't want convertible hair."

Quinn turned and quickly moved to her locker. She removed her dark sunglasses and hat from the locker and donned them. She closed the locker and quickly walked to the parking lot, to find Kevin waiting at his Jeep.

"Drive."

* * *

Almost an hour into the session, Quinn had a blinding headache and desperately wished she could learn to keep her mouth shut in front of her mother. She and Kevin were seated at the kitchen table of the Thompson home. Kevin was reading _The Glass Menagerie_ from a textbook; water glasses were on the table.

"So, like, the broken unicorn thingy means that she can't go back to the way she was?"

Slowly, Kevin was beginning to understand. Kevin could read at an acceptable level and understand much of what he read. However, when he had little interest, his attention wandered very easily.

"Something like that. It's a little more involved."

Charlene Thompson entered the kitchen. "Sorry to disturb you, but I need to start on dinner."

Quinn stood. "That's okay, Mrs. Thompson. We were just finishing."

"Quinn, thank you for agreeing to help with Kevin."

"Welcome." She turned to Kevin. "We'll work on your history Wednesday."

Charlene walked Quinn through the house. "You Morgendorffer girls have always seemed to be such a good influence on my Kevin. Even if your sister was a little odd, she seemed to make Kevin try to think."

"Um. Thanks." Quinn stepped out the door and gave a little wave. "I can walk home from here." _David, how did you put up with things like this?_

Charlene closed the door.

Doug Thompson sat in his recliner, in a foul mood. "Why are you going to all this work for the stupid boy? The idiot blew his chance with football. I say we just drop this school crap like I did and put him on one of my work crews like over the summer."

"Because, I want him to have more of a future than that. It was your constantly pushing football that got him in this position, now you just want to abandon his future and use him as a wage laborer. You filthy pig!"

"Don't use that tone with me, you coddling bitch! If he wasn't man enough to get through high school like he was supposed to, why try to baby feed it to him now?"

"Man enough? I'm having him do this because you made football his life and told him not to worry about grades; that Coach Gibson would take care of everything. You even got into a fight with a couple of the teachers because they wouldn't let him slide by. Fat lot of good that did him. He certainly followed in your footsteps. Or don't you remember that you weren't 'man enough' to finish high school. Now we do things my way."

Kevin closed the book and quietly exited the house through the kitchen door. _These fights are getting worse than the ones last summer_. He walked to the other side of the masonry barbeque and sat on the ground, resting his back against it. He was still thinking of _The Glass Menagerie_. Images of Jim and Laura dancing formed, but, he found it difficult to tell the two apart. He thought also of the broken unicorn. _I can't go back to the way I was._

* * *

Daria held the phone a couple of inches away from her ear.

"Heeeelp?" Quinn desperately cried.

Daria returned the phone to her ear. "Which one has gone off the deep end?"

"Me. Because of Kevin and Tiffany, and all because Mom talked to Ms. Li."

"Please tell me you can clarify that. Because I am terrified to go where that seems to be pointing."

"Okay, okay. It's kind of a long story. Mom found out I was helping to sort-of tutor Tiffany, and…well…one thing led to another and Mom called Ms. Li to volunteer me to help tutor other students. Guess what? She sticks me with trying to help Kevin."

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I gather this is not an enjoyable pastime, but what is the actual problem?"

"Tiffany hasn't been too bad. She's in most of my classes, so I just have to go over the homework a couple times with her, and a little slower."

"Sounds like possibly a mild learning disability. Repetition and slower speed can be effective. That's very good, Quinn."

"Thanks. But helping her isn't the problem. It's not real hard; you just have to be patient. She's my friend, so it's easy. But Kevin, argh. He reads a little better than Tiffany, but keeping his attention is almost impossible. This is kind of weird. He could concentrate on his lines when we tried to do _Canterbury Tales_ for that medieval faire. He seemed to be really, really focused on that. Now, his brain is like, bouncing from thing to thing. Plus, he goes off onto the wildest stuff. I don't know what to do."

"Some kind of attention deficit. That would explain a lot. Should have been picked up on by Mrs. Manson, same with Tiffany. Can't help it now. What did you try?"

"Kind of what I did with Tiffany. Went over things slow and repeated them. I had to repeat a lot more because he kept looking out the window, or at the TV, or, wherever."

"I take it killing him isn't an option."

"I thought about it. But that would mean that Mom would find me another extracurricular activity that could be worse."

"I can't think of anything worse."

"Daria. We're talking about Mom on one of her find-something-now obsessions."

"Hmm. She could find something worse. So, you need to find some way to keep his attention. On the schoolwork, not you."

"Like I would want his attention on me. Don't mention that incident with the science project; I never want to think about that again."

"So your taste has improved."

"Ha. Ha. Any teaching suggestions?"

"Remember, when you told me how David made school subjects more interesting for you, summer before last? He tailored the slant of what he was teaching to match your interests; you need to do that with Kevin."

"But, that means sports."

* * *

Mr. O'Neill half-sat, half-leaned against the teacher's desk.

"Okay, Brooke. That was…an interesting perspective on the character."

Mr. O'Neill briefly consulted his notes. "What was one of the overall themes in the play? Kevin."

"Everyone in the play was like…um…trying to…not have to deal…with their lives? Kind of like…they didn't want to face who they were?"

Mr. O'Neill's eyes rolled back as he appeared to vertically crumple, falling onto his rump, then back against the teacher's desk. Slowly, he slumped over to one side.

"Mr. O'Neill?"

Sandi looked up. "What happened?"

Stacy said, "Is he breathing?"

Kevin looked alarmed. "Man. I hope we don't have to do mouth-to mouth re…gurgi…whatever on him."

Quinn moved up and knelt next to Mr. O'Neill's slumped body. "I think he fainted."

* * *

A strong, steady rain fell outside the Thompson house as Quinn worked with Kevin at the kitchen table.

Quinn said, "It was like…baseball teams trading players."

"So, they traded knights? Like, two second-string jousters for a first string?"

Quinn rubbed her eyes. "No. Knights weren't involved. They were trading their children. Sort of like, one king saying to another, I'll let your son marry my daughter, so you can back me up against this other king."

"Hey, that could be twisted. What if the chick was, ugly or something?"

Quinn looked through weary eyes. _Or the guy a jerk._ "They didn't have a choice."

Doug pulled another beer from the refrigerator and opened it. He swayed slightly. "That is so pathetic. You're hanging around some boney brain chick now. Hardly anything to grab onto. Why'd you let Brittany dump you? There was a chick that had plenty to grab."

Charlene charged in and grabbed Doug by the arm. "Dammit! I told you to stay the hell out of here when they were working."

"Shut up, woman. I was just in here getting a beer. You call what that little twit was doing working?"

Kevin stood and faced his father.

Charlene pulled Doug toward the living room. Fury filled her eyes. "Why don't you just go to your favorite bar for a while? Oh, yeah. You're too embarrassed to show up there because your son is no longer a football hero. Right now, I don't care where you go, just get the hell of this house."

"Okay. Great. Throw me out of my own house. You're going to regret this, you scheming bitch." Doug pulled his arm free, slinging beer across the living room in the process. He charged out of the house, slamming the door as he passed.

Quinn sat with a stunned look on her face. Kevin turned back to face her. "Sorry about that Quinn. Dad's been angry that I didn't go to college for football. He didn't go to college because he failed his senior year. He doesn't want me to try again; he wants me to drop out of school like he did to go to work."

Quinn continued staring straight ahead.

"Um, Quinn? You okay?"

"Boney brain…Nothing to grab onto…Little twit…Nobody insults me like that." Quinn rapidly shifted her gaze toward Kevin. "Do you want to graduate?"

"Um…yeah. I'm like, really bummed that I don't have much future." Kevin gave a sad glance toward the living room. "I don't want to end up like him."

"I'm going to make sure you graduate. He is not going to get away with this."

"Really?"

Charlene returned to the kitchen. "Quinn, I apologize for my husband's behavior."

"I'm okay, but I don't think I'm up to continuing today."

"I understand. I'll give you a ride home. The rain is still heavy out there."

* * *

The gold sedan slowly drove through the early evening rain. Charlene drove carefully to avoid the street flooding and loose debris.

"I trusted what I read on the report cards he brought home. I knew he wasn't the brightest student in school, but I thought he was getting by. I was more worried about Brittany getting knocked up and preventing him from going to college than his grades."

Quinn looked over. "You don't have to worry about any kind of relationship like that between me and Kevin. But I do kind of understand what it is like, when people don't expect you to think too much. Somebody once gave me a chance to show I could do well. Somehow, I think something is telling me to do the same."

* * *

Thanks to: Isa Yo-Jo, nonamejane, Decelaraptor, Hiergargo, Ranger Thorne, sleepless, Roger E. Moore, Lawndale Stalker, atimnie, Parker-man, Nemo Blank, RedlegRick, (make sure you check out his fic _And Then There Was One_), and Steven Galloway for comments and support at PPMB.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading.

July 2004  
Revised January 2005


	6. Nineteen in Ninety Nine

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the sixth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Nineteen in Ninety-Nine**

Daria Morgendorffer sat in an uncomfortable lecture hall seat, about one quarter of the way back and to the right of the professor's lectern. Thursday morning, and U.S. History to 1876 was proving to be duller than she had anticipated. Much to her surprise, this class was little different from her high school experience, except Mr. Demartino was more entertaining. This is not to say that Dr. Miller was ineffective, but few could provide the atmosphere of her old teacher.

"Can somebody out there give me a clear definition of Manifest Destiny?"

The question brought Daria out of her minor daydreaming; the juxtaposition of the question with those reminisces produced an uncharacteristic, for her, chuckle.

Dr. Miller raised an eyebrow at Daria's reaction to the question. "Do you have a particularly amusing insight into this, Ms. Morgendorffer?"

"Sorry, I was just remembering about a time I was asked that in high school. You had to be there. Manifest Destiny was…"

Dr. Miller smiled and shook his head. "Well, since you don't want to share the joke with the rest of us, why don't we let somebody else try to answer that question before we get back to you?"

* * *

Daria left her dorm room in Fenderson Residence Hall, for the walk to the gymnasium. Besides Dr. Miller's history, she had made it through another session of Principles of Education that morning. Now, with lunch over, she was heading for her mandatory physical education and last class of the day, Beginners Low-Impact Aerobics. She wore black sweat shirt, pants and tennis shoes. Over that, her grey jacket against the early afternoon chill.

"Boston sure gets a lot colder than Lawndale. November nineteenth, and we're already getting frosts. That's one thing I miss about Texas, it was warmer."

Daria started to cross the main quad diagonally, but altered her course to stay on the perimeter sidewalk. She picked up her speed a little to a fast walk.

"Might as well get in a little extra exercise on my way to purgatory. Please, somebody, do the right thing if I start to behave any more like my mother."

A tall, rail thin, young man with black hair fell in step beside Daria. His normal stride easily kept pace with her fast walk. "Depends. What is the right thing, and how are you behaving like your mother?"

Daria looked at the newcomer. "Hi, Al. The right thing is putting me out of my misery, the current behavior is this power walking."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're walking fast, for you."

Daria glared at him over her glasses. "I do have the means to separate you from certain body parts."

Al swerved away about two feet. "Ouch."

"What brings you to this side of campus?"

"Looking for you."

"A likely story."

"Really, I am."

"Are you feeling oxygen deprivation up there?"

"I still need to find a partner for that 'Princ-Ed' project. Figured recruiting some intelligence would be a good idea."

"Flattery, huh? I suppose I could do worse for a partner. Sure."

Al nodded his head toward the building they were approaching. "Nevis Hall. My next stop. See you in class next Tuesday. Thanks."

Daria watched him quickly jog away. She shook her head, thinking. _They used to avoid me for my brain, now they want me._

* * *

After returning from the gym, Daria quickly closed the door to her room and dropped most of her mail on the desk. She retrieved a letter opener from the desk, and carefully cut open a large envelope. Inside, she found the slightly delayed October issue of _Literature in Action_, a mid-sized fiction magazine devoted to action/adventure stories. Halfway down the left side of the cover was:

**Introducing Melody Powers in:  
****Summer of Our Discontent  
****By Daria Morgendorffer**

Also inside was the second manuscript she had submitted to the magazine at the end of summer, several forms, and a letter.

**Dear Ms. Morgendorffer,**

**Please accept this gratis copy of the October 1999 issue, containing your story _Summer of Our Discontent_. It is also a pleasure to inform you that your manuscript, _Fall of Ice Base Leopard_, has been accepted for publication, pending major revision. Enclosed, is your manuscript with the recommended edits, along with our standard publishing agreements and contracts. Please review the recommended edits and submit your revised manuscript and/or rebuttals within 60 days of receipt. Please sign and return the publishing agreements with your revised manuscript.**

**Thank you for choosing _Literature in Action._**

Daria stared, wide-eyed, at the letter. "Wow."

Daria's roommate, Karen, looked over from her desk. "Cool, looks like you got your copy of the magazine. What's the rest of that stuff?"

Daria looked over with a smile. "They've accepted my second story, pending revision, of course."

"Wow is right. That's one nice extra birthday present."

Daria gave a small laugh. "I guess you're right. Nothing else I sent in last summer was accepted, but this makes two Melody stories in a row. Guess I know what works for now."

"Speaking of birthdays, what are you planning for tonight?"

"I'm going to open that package from Jane that's been waiting for the last couple weeks. Mom and Dad called this morning, best time for them, Quinn, and me to get on the line at the same time. They're going to do the cake thing and stuff when I go home for Thanksgiving next week. Therefore, I plan on spending a quiet night in my spacious abode."

Karen went to the door, peeked out, and turned to face Daria. "Don't plan on it being quiet." She stuck her head back out of the door. "Come on in."

She opened the door and many of the residents of the third floor were waiting outside. Jenn Cavendish came in carrying a stack of boxes from Cheap and Cheesy Pizza, the local favorite. Carly Stanton followed, carrying a cooler of soft drinks in front of her. Anna Stevens brought in an ice cream cake with "Happy Birthday" generically written on top. In place of candles, nineteen light sticks glowed. They found conveniently prepared space on top of Karen's dresser and desk. Robin Hollister dropped off a stack of paper plates and a cup of plastic spoons. Other residents poured in after the food, resulting in cramped quarters.

Karen said, "Happy Birthday."

Daria looked quite uncomfortable with the crowd, but Karen placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everyone promised not to stay too long. But, this was a good excuse to have a small party."

"I guess, I…I've just never had a birthday with this many people around before."

"First time for everything." Karen turned toward the general crowd. "Okay. One…Two…Three."

Everyone chorused, "Happy birthday!"

Karen smiled more. "We decided that singing would probably cause too much brain damage."

Daria looked relieved. "Thank God."

Daria maneuvered to the cake, looking at the light sticks. "I hope you don't expect me to blow those out."

Anna handed Daria a cake knife. "With this crowd, open flames would be too dangerous. Take the sticks off and make a wish anyway."

Somewhat self-consciously, Daria removed them and stood silent for a moment. She then used the knife to cut the cake into numerous irregular squares.

"Don't expect me to serve things up to you. Come and get it yourself."

Daria dropped a slab of slowly melting ice cream onto a plate, alongside a slice of pizza. She grabbed a spoon and sat down at her desk.

Daria looked over the room and located Karen, who was loading up plates and handing them out to the others. Daria thought, _she and Jane together are going to be dangerous._

For the next half hour, people wandered around, munching on pizza and ice cream. They stopped by Daria to express their good will and best wishes. Many seemed polite, others genuine. By the end, all had wandered back to their rooms, leaving Karen and Daria.

Daria looked around the room in amazement. _How could the place get trashed so fast?_

Karen rolled her chair up next to Daria. "I think you have some gifts to open." She pointed to Jane's package, and produced an envelope.

Daria accepted the envelope and opened it. "A gift certificate to Cheap and Cheesy. That's a gift I can really use." Daria smiled and nodded toward Karen.

Karen smiled and nodded in return. She then rubbed her hands together. "Come on. Open the big one."

Daria sighed. "Okay."

She carefully peeled the brown paper away, then the box, and then the underlying bubble wrap. Inside was a painting by her best friend, Jane, of Daria on a beach chair, with a young, blond-haired man wearing glasses looking up at her in admiration. The incident from Daria and Jane's trip to the beach last summer was also recorded in an included photo, showing the painting to be of a real incident and not a figment of Jane's active imagination.

Karen gave a low whistle. "You weren't kidding about Jane being good. You don't look so bad yourself in a swimsuit."

Daria blushed at the comment.

"And who's the cute guy?"

Daria was relieved to hear a knock at the door. She rolled the chair over slightly and cracked the door open; then pulled it open fully.

"Aunt Amy?"

Amy Barksdale stood in the door, wearing an ankle length black skirt and a deep purple turtleneck sweater. She carried a small, black leather purse in one hand.

"Well, well, well. My favorite niece has turned into a party girl, at least by the looks of this place. What would Helen think?" Amy smirked.

Daria stammered slightly, "Umm. The girls on the floor just gave me a little birthday party."

"Oh, so that's it. Well, I don't smell any alcohol, and I don't see any other used items in the trash cans, so I guess you were well behaved."

Daria recovered from her initial shock. "Amy, this is my roommate, Karen Myerson; Karen, this is my favorite aunt, Amy Barksdale.

Karen extended her hand. "Nice to meet you. How did you get up here? Nobody at the RA desk phoned that Daria had a guest."

Amy shook Karen's hand. "Nice to meet you too. I walked in with a crowd and looked like I knew what I was doing. I did three years as an RA to help pay for grad school; I know how to get past them."

Daria asked, "What brings you all the way to Boston?"

"Just my favorite niece's birthday."

"You didn't drive all the way from…"

Amy laughed. "No, I'm attending a conference in town. After listening to a bunch of first round interviews for a faculty position I'm chairing the search committee for, I decided to blow off the afternoon and see you."

"Thanks."

Amy developed another of her devilish grins. "Now give, I heard. Who's the cute guy, I want to know too."

Karen pointed to the painting and photo. "Trying to get some info on him."

"Hmm. He is cute."

Daria blushed. "That's Will. I spent a nice day with him at the beach last August when Jane and I had that road trip."

Amy rotated her hand in front of her face in a coaxing motion. "Come on, there has to be more."

"He was at the beach with his friend Greg. The two spent the day with Jane and me. We had a nice dinner together. We went to our separate hotels. The end."

Karen looked at Amy. "She leads such an exciting life. I believe her."

"Yeah, so do I. Though it's good to see she kept up her good taste in boys."

"I wouldn't know, due to her lack of any dating in the last almost three months."

Daria gave her a steely look. "Karen!"

Amy laughed lightly. "What she lacks in quantity, she makes up for in quality. Her last boyfriend was cute, and rich."

Karen's eyes widened. "No offense, but what do you people consider rich?"

Daria sighed. "His father was partner in one of the top ten companies in the state."

"Does he have a brother?"

Daria glared.

"Kidding."

Daria rubbed her temples. "Could we please not discuss my love life, or lack thereof?"

Amy placed her hand on Daria's. "Sorry, just having a little fun."

Amy picked up the painting to examine it, rocking her head back slightly to view it through the lower half of her glasses. She read the signature. "Jane Lane. Your friend's work is impressive."

"I'll let her know you said that."

Karen pulled the magazine issue and cover letter from Daria's shelf and handed them to Amy. "You should be impressed with your niece, too."

Amy held them at the same level she had held the painting, quickly reading the letter, and then thumbing through the story.

"Consider me impressed. Plus, another on the way. This gives me one more reason. I hope you don't have a test tomorrow, because I want to take you out for a night on the town." Amy waved to Karen. "You're invited too. If Daria calls you a friend in her letters, you must be worth knowing."

Daria replied, "No tests, I guess I can make it."

Karen said, "Thanks, I'd like that too. I have a Chem Twenty, Forty-Five test tomorrow, but it's just electron orbitals and configurations. I can get in a good review tomorrow morning before class, and ace it."

"Deal, both of you. I'll help you clean up so we can get out of here quicker. Dorm rooms still give me the creeps."

* * *

An hour later, Amy led the two, now dressed in warm clothing in anticipation of the overnight cold, toward a red Camry. Daria wore dark blue pants, a black sweatshirt and her grey jacket. Karen had on jeans, a brown sweater and heavy khaki jacket.

Daria looked at the car. "Not your usual style."

"The university travel rules limit us to certain types of rental cars. Best I could do without paying for it out of pocket."

Karen looked at the driver-side mirror in puzzlement, expecting a parking ticket; then noticed a removable parking pass in the window. "How did you get a Raft faculty parking permit?"

"I borrowed it from one of the Raft faculty attending the conference. Promised to have it back to him this evening, so I'll need to stop by the Hynes Convention Center on the way."

"Promise him anything else?"

"That's privileged information."

Amy seated herself to drive, Daria took shotgun, and Karen stretched out across the back seat.

Daria smiled. "Good thing we're not in your car, Amy. Be a little tight for space."

"Like I'm going to drive my car to Boston with what they pay us for mileage. Best way to the convention center?"

"Head over to I-93 South, go down to the Mass Pike, west to Massachusetts Avenue, exit, and then hit Boylston Street."

"Got it. Rather good for somebody without a car."

"Still need a map to walk around this town. I looked up the route while you were in the bathroom, before we left."

Amy exited the parking lot at a moderately excessive speed. Soon she was on the interstate.

Karen leaned over the seat. "So, what is this convention you're attending?"

Amy said over her shoulder, "Third Congress on Quantitative Approaches to Sociology."

"Okay, what do you do that makes this so interesting?"

"I'm an Associate Professor of Statistical Sociology at Tennyson University. Before you ask, I'm not one of the enemy; I have a one-hundred percent research appointment."

"Still, kind of cool. Somehow, I expect Daria to end up like that some day, professor by day; action/adventure writer by night."

"She's off to a good start. I'll have to pick up a copy to have Daria sign before I leave town. I think there's a Books by the Ton near the convention center."

Karen continued her interest. "Statistical Sociology, what is that?"

"We study human group behavior for statistical trends that might be of interest."

Karen looked at Daria. "Just call her Mari Seldon, Mother of Psychohistory."

Daria smirked at the pun on an Asimov character. "Come to think of it, there are times when I wonder if she has been more than observing the Barksdale family dynamic."

"Now, Daria. That would be unethical. Besides, it's too small of a sample size. However, I will admit that it had something to do with my career choice."

"Trying to figure out some way to control Mom and Rita?"

"Or at least to be able to predict the next detonation, so I could avoid the blast area."

All three laughed. Amy looked back briefly at Karen. "What do you do?"

"I'm a Pre-Vet major, and I shovel stuff at the Franklin Park Zoo."

"Not..."

"Yes, zoos generate a lot of it."

With traffic delays, they reached the convention center parking garage in about fifteen minutes. Amy pulled the Raft pass from her windshield and put up her garage-issued pass. She found a space and neatly parked.

"Probably be best to come in with me. It's usually not safe to hang around parking garages anywhere for too long."

Karen looked around uncomfortably at the garage. "You don't have to twist my arm. These places just seem nasty."

Daria locked and closed the door. "You're not getting me to hang around here, either. Might find something less appealing than Upchuck."

Amy pulled a nametag out of her purse that read:

Dr. Amy J. Barksdale  
Statistical Sociology and  
Anthropology Laboratory  
Tennyson University

She pinned the tag to her sweater as they walked toward the doors. Soon they entered the convention center. People of myriad ages, shapes, sizes and forms filled the central atrium. A registration table was up front. Lines of conference rooms lined both sides of the atrium. Placards on easels stood in front of each door, showing a schedule of the day's presentations for that room.

Amy looked at the other two. "Just follow me; you'll look like any other grad students following around their professor."

Amy walked to the second door on the left. She looked at her watch, peeked inside for a couple seconds, and looked at the schedule.

"Count on Sid to keep things on time. I'm going to sneak in and drop this off with him, be back in about a minute or so."

Right on schedule, Amy reappeared at the door. "Okay, now let's go out and find some fun for tonight."

She placed an arm around each younger woman, and walked toward the parking garage. "Any interesting museums you want to show me?"

As the three passed the registration desk, a man in a brown suit coughed into his hand, but left his cuff lingering by his mouth for several seconds after. He began walking toward the parking garage.

A man in a blue suit raised his hand and pushed his glasses back against his forehead with his thumb, lingering for a second or two. He also began to walk toward the parking garage.

Daria looked at Amy. "You know, the Institute of Contemporary Art is just a couple blocks down the street from here. Probably get there quicker by walking, being as rush hour traffic has started. They're also open until nine on Thursdays."

Karen shrugged. "Not my usual style, but I haven't been there yet."

"Off we go then." Amy steered them away from the garage and toward the street exit.

* * *

Amy insisted in stopping by a newsstand near the museum. A couple minutes later, she handed Daria a copy of _Literature in Action_, along with a pen. "I want the first signed copy of one of your works. In fifty years, I'll sell it on WebBay and split the profit with you."

Daria smiled at Amy, who pushed the magazine and pen toward Daria again.

"You're serious."

"I want you to sign it."

Daria took the two and signed the article. "Happy now?"

Amy slid the magazine back into its bag. "Very."

All three started walking toward the museum again.

A minute later, the man in brown wandered into the newsstand, scanned around the stock, then thumbed through the four remaining issues of _Literature in Action_, set them down and exited. Moments later, the man in blue also looked through the magazines, before quietly exiting. Passing him in was a young man in blue jeans and a grey turtleneck sweater, with a small cassette player at his belt and earphones in place. The young man displayed a conference nametag:

Jason McClellan  
Graduate Student

He unslung a black backpack, and set it at one end of the counter. He wandered back into the stand to pick up a copy of _Literature in Action_, along with _Sports Illustrated_ and _Time_. He paid with crumpled bills from his front pocket. After dropping the change in the same pocket, he reslung the backpack, grabbed the bag with the magazines, and headed out toward the museum.

Just outside the museum, Karen tapped on Daria's shoulder. "Think your Mom would want a signed copy?"

Daria turned. "She preordered a dozen copies. I'm sure I'll be signing all of them when I get home next week."

"Has your Mom always been like that?"

Daria and Amy answered in unison, "Yes."

Karen turned and looked, raised a finger, and paused before speaking. "Please don't do that again. It's...chilling."

Daria and Amy innocently smiled.

Amy quickly scanned the front desk and slid a twenty to the attendant. "Three please." She turned back toward Daria and Karen. "My treat, Daria's birthday, no discussion."

Amy took her change and distributed tickets to all. "Let's see what kind of screwed up taste they have in Boston."

Three minutes later, the man in brown paid with the exact change and entered the museum. One minute later, the man in blue followed, also paying the exact amount. The young grad student came in next, scattering dropped change on the floor as he retrieved money from his pocket. Embarrassed, he gave the cashier a grin, accepted his ticket and picked up the change before entering.

The women wandered through the main exhibit hall. Some pieces were breathtaking; others left a lot to be desired.

Karen was listening to Amy, who was quietly animated. "When we got back to the reception, it looked like the aftermath of Sherman's March to the Sea, with Helen and Rita sitting on a step, crying, hugging and getting sloshed straight out of a bottle."

Karen grinned. "Sounds as bad as my Aunt Betty's wedding. Though the ATF agents looking for Great Uncle Rick's moonshine still did most of the damage. Talk about bad timing."

"Sounds like it."

"If you don't mind, you and Daria seem close, what happened that kept you away for so long?"

"About the time I started my doctorate, Helen landed a job with a law firm in Texas. Daria wasn't quite four then. I had little time or money to travel during my studies. I finished my degree, spent a couple years in adjunct hell, and landed this position. By the time I was tenured and had time to spend with family again, they'd moved to Lawndale and twelve years were gone."

Daria moved back toward them. "But she did make quite an entrance."

Amy smirked at Daria. "And listening to her tales of high school made my experience seem almost tolerable, except for one thing."

Karen asked, "What was that."

"Be glad you didn't go to high school during disco."

"That bad?"

"_Staying Alive_ was the prom theme."

"Eww. Glad I missed it." Karen shuddered slightly.

"So am I. One advantage to being the nerdy brain with glasses, I was under no pressure to attend."

Karen shook her head and chuckled. "Ours was _Wind Beneath My Wings_; by the end, we were calling it _Wind Between My Cheeks_. Spent most of the night keeping my date's hands out of any and all openings in my dress."

"Glad I missed it," was the stereo response.

"Will you two stop doing that?"

The three women leisurely ambled around the museum, quietly talking and enjoying the atmosphere. The man in brown calmly moved to keep them in view while appearing to study various works. The blue suit watched the brown suit while also maintaining the illusion of interest in the art. The grad student looked around a while and appeared to get bored. He found a seat and started reading his magazines.

A little after seven, the three women exited the museum.

Karen said, "Why don't we hit that restaurant next door? I'm getting hungry, and don't feel like a long walk after that museum crawl."

"Sounds good." Daria and Amy smiled at each other after the shared response.

About half-way to the restaurant, Daria quietly said, "Amy, do you normally have guys following you around who talk into their cuff links?"

Concern flashed across Amy's eyes, and was quickly controlled. "What?"

"Behind and to the right. Brown suit. There is a guy in a blue suit by the museum exit."

Amy turned a little toward Daria, she noticed the brown suit.

Amy looked worried. "No, I don't normally have guys following me like that."

"Do you think that might have something to do with your work?"

"I…I don't see how. I study large group action responses to stimuli in confined areas. Such as concerts or sporting events."

"You mean you get the university to pay for you to go to these?"

"Well, it really comes out of my grant money, but basically, yeah."

"We'll have to talk about that later. So, why us?"

Karen asked, "What are you guys talking about?"

Daria said, "Two men in suits are following us from the museum. I saw one apparently speaking into a microphone set in his cuff."

"What? They think we lifted something?"

"I don't think they're security guards."

Amy nodded. "I don't, either. Though they don't seem to be real experts, if Daria spotted them that easily."

Karen rubbed her hands. "Don't be so sure, Daria seems to be very good at spotting things out of the ordinary."

Daria looked at Amy. "With the amount of time I had to deal with those two mutants in Highland, I learned to notice people or things that could potentially cause bodily injury."

"I still can't believe those two were real."

Karen leaned over toward Daria. "How does it feel to be in the middle of a spy story?"

"I think I prefer to write them. That way I have more control over what's going on."

They found the restaurant to be clean and well-lit. The distinctive architecture and décor made it clear the place was trying to attract museum patrons. The three found a table near the kitchen and sat down to read menus.

The brown suit entered, and took a small table, facing them. Soon after, the blue suit entered, positioning himself to watch both the brown suit and the women.

Daria whispered to Amy. "They followed us in. This is getting spooky."

"We need to find a way to call the police."

The young grad student bounded in, and made a straight line for their table. He plopped down in the remaining empty chair.

"Dr. Barksdale! Cool to meet you. I saw you leaving the museum and wanted to say hi."

He pulled his name tag forward. "I'm Jason McClellan. Just started grad school this year and found your paper yesterday to be really interesting."

While talking, he pulled a conference program from his pocket and flipped to the next day's schedule. He slid the program toward Amy.

"Are you going to be at that session tomorrow?"

Over the printed text was written:

_My name is Special Agent Devon. I'm with the FBI. Please stay calm._

Amy gave him a tight smile. "Yes, I'll be there."

Daria raised both eyebrows; Karen's eyes opened wide, her hand shook slightly.

Devon pulled a menu from the table rack. "Cool. What do they have here to eat?" He pulled the menu up in front to read. He slightly nodded his head, as if to a musical beat.

Daria listened carefully, and heard Devon say, "I'm inside. All three are safe. Targets at five and eleven o'clock, relative to the entrance. Five more seated civilians, two at six o'clock and three at nine. Unknown number of staff. ETA for backups? Understood."

She looked closely at him. _Hmm. Small bulge under turtleneck must be a neck mike. Already wearing earphones, hidden in plain sight._

Daria leaned over toward Devon and pointed at something on her menu. "Is there anything you can actually tell us about the two goons following us?"

He smiled at Daria. "It looked like you were the one that spotted them."

He lowered his menu and spoke in low tones so that all three women could just hear him. "Dr. Barksdale had the misfortune to walk into, and out of, the seminar room at the time a…courier was expected to make a pickup from somebody in the room. Those two mistook her for the courier, who actually made the transaction a couple minutes later. They work for…competing interests also desirous of the package, and followed her to find out to whom the package would be delivered."

Amy narrowed her eyes a little. "Why there?"

"Numerous rooms darkened for slide presentations and lots of people from different countries milling around with briefcases, tote bags, backpacks, or other means to carry objects. Nobody really checks tags or ID's. Good place to arrange a transfer."

Daria furrowed her brow. "You say they followed us from the convention center; why haven't they done anything?"

"They wouldn't try in the museum, too many security cameras and guards. Since there are three of you, they're probably waiting for help before attempting anything. Could be thinking that you are either going to split up to different directions to reduce the odds of any one being trailed, or assume you two young ladies are guards. With the odds three to one against, remember, they are assuming you are, um, professionals; simple self-preservation keeps them from doing anything. Plus, the other interested party may or not interfere. But, if they get help, the odds change. I'm hoping my backup gets here first, so we can get you three out safely."

Karen nervously said, "What if they get help first?"

"They want information; they will probably try to take all of us somewhere for questioning. They'll try to be as low-key as possible to avoid being noticed. If they search us, it'll probably mean a stop at a back alley somewhere when they find my ID and weapon."

A waitress approached the table. "Good evening. My name is Tammy. Our special tonight is roasted salmon steak with a crushed pineapple garnish over wild rice. Also served with a fresh vegetable medley. Would anybody care to order drinks?"

"Could we have a few minutes please?"

"Sure, take your time." The waitress turned and went to the man in brown.

Devon nodded his head slightly and said, "Five minutes, roger…two, two and one, got it. Thanks."

He rotated his gaze past all three. "Please listen. Our goal is to get you out of here without incident. My backup will be here in five minutes. Four men will come in, two will sit down between us and the man in brown, facing him, and two more will do the same for the man in blue. We will calmly exit as soon as they are in place. One more agent will be waiting outside."

Karen was still shaken. "What if they try something?"

"Not that likely. My men's presence will tell your followers that the authorities are involved and that we don't want them to do anything. Since the interests they work for prefer to keep things quiet, they will most likely stay put. Though you should never discount somebody going stupid. If they do, drop to the floor and get behind something. If nothing else, I'll work for cover."

Daria kicked Devon to get his attention. "Mr. Blue has some friends."

Three more large, suited men entered the restaurant and seated themselves at the table with the man in blue.

Devon watched the newcomers carefully. They talked a little among themselves and with the man in blue. The man in brown watched the new arrivals. He shook his head and silently left.

Devon was quietly speaking again. "Dammit. Target two has backup, three more at the same location. Target one has left the building."

"You three, calmly get up and go to the restroom. Act natural. Leave through the window."

Daria asked, "What if it doesn't have a window?"

"Either improvise a way out the back, or find a place to hide. Go."

"What about you?"

"I'll try to keep them entertained."

Amy, Daria, and Karen walked to the restroom, trying to look calm. They quickly spotted a small window on the far side of the restroom. Amy checked the window and opened the simple, slide-bolt lock. After a small tug, the sash rose freely.

Amy sighed in relief.

Daria leaned against the wall. "Good."

Karen looked at the window, down at herself, and back at the window. "You two can make it, but I won't fit through."

Daria rose off the wall. "What?"

Karen slapped her hips. "These are not going through that window."

Daria started to say something, but stopped. Karen was right.

Amy motioned to the other two. "Karen, hold Daria up so she can look outside. Daria, check for other windows that all three of us might get through."

Karen nodded and moved to the window, knitting her fingers together. She braced herself and Daria stepped onto Karen's hands. She looked out and pulled back in.

"There's a larger window to the left."

Karen made the mental map. "The men's room."

Daria hopped down and started moving toward the door. "A little embarrassment beats the alternative."

Amy followed. "If there are any occupants, they'll be behind a door, or have their backs to us."

Karen jogged behind. "I hope it's not as nasty as the one at my old high school."

Daria cracked the women's room door open and peeked out. She opened it and motioned for the other two to follow. She pushed straight into the men's room and directly to the window. It was almost twice the size. She opened the window and looked outside, then crawled through. Amy stopped at the window and pushed Karen through next, then carefully crawled through, trying to keep her long skirt from getting caught on anything.

An accented, possibly eastern European, male voice spoke, startling all three women.

"What an odd way to exit a nice restaurant."

They turned and found the man in the brown suit standing next to a dumpster. He held one hand inside his coat; the other was pressed to his ear. Suddenly, he stiffened.

A women's voice came from behind him. "Those two points you feel on your butt belong to a taser. I'm sure I won't miss at this range. If I use this on you, sitting down is probably going to be very difficult. Plus, I've heard that strong electrical shocks in the pelvic region can cause a loss of bladder and bowel control. Something to think about."

The man nodded.

A hand reached out from behind the man, motioning the three women to move that way, behind him. They carefully walked the indicated direction. Behind the man was a red-headed woman in a black power suit, similar to the one commonly worn by Daria's mother, holding a taser to the man's right butt cheek.

"Now, leave the alley, and nothing else will happen."

The man walked forward without a word, and without looking back. He turned the corner and was out of sight.

The woman extended a hand. "Agent Simpson. Glad to see you're okay."

Amy was concerned. "What about inside? Is Devon alright?"

"The rest of the backup went in and had a little staring match. Your admirers backed down and made a polite exit. Nice display of testosterone though."

Simpson adjusted her headset. "All three are safe. Target one convinced to be somewhere else. Coming around."

Karen moved next to Simpson. "Was that true, about the taser charge causing those…side effects?"

Simpson laughed. "Hell if I know; I made it up on the spot to scare him. Seemed to work."

Agent Simpson started walking toward the front of the building. Amy, Daria and Karen slowly followed, each looking dazed.

Just before they reached the front of the block, Devon came around the corner.

"Thank heaven."

Simpson said to him, "Three cool-headed people here."

Karen slumped against the wall. "I think I was too scared to do anything else."

Devon rested a hand on her shoulder. "Any sane person would be scared, but you three kept your wits about you. A lot to be said about that."

He took out a notepad. "I need a little information for my report. Do you two young ladies have names?"

Amy pointed to Daria. "My niece, Daria Morgendorffer, she's a freshman at Raft." She pointed to Karen. "Karen Myerson, also a Raft freshman. The two are roommates."

Devon raised an eyebrow. "Daria Morgendorffer? Where have I…"

He reached into his backpack and retrieved the magazine bag. He pulled the _Literature in Action_ issue out and reread the cover.

"Yours?"

"Yes. How did you…?"

"I was curious about the magazine you two fussed over outside the newsstand."

You saw that?"

"Yes. I followed everyone from the convention center."

Daria dropped her head into her hand. "Was anybody else following us?"

"Not that I'm aware of. By the way, I liked your story."

"Um. Thanks."

Amy poked Devon in the arm lightly with her finger. "Any chance of me finding out what was really going on here?"

"No."

"That's it?"

He nodded. "Sorry."

"All three of us get scared witless, and you can't even give us a hint of what was going on?"

"No."

Daria spoke up. "In other words, there's enough embarrassment here for all parties involved to want to keep things quiet."

"Yes."

Devon shook hands with all three. "I am sincerely glad you are unharmed. I apologize for you getting caught up in this. I also want to thank you for keeping your heads, and making my job a lot easier. I hate to seem so abrupt, but we need to get going. Filling out the reports on this is going to take half the night."

He turned and walked to a nearby, dark grey sedan. Simpson waited by the driver's door. They entered and drove away without a further word.

Karen slid down onto the cold pavement.

"I could use a shot of Great Uncle Rick's moonshine about now."

Daria leaned against the wall next to her.

Amy kicked at the pavement. "Guess I'm going to have a hard time topping that for the evening's entertainment."

Daria softly snorted. Karen looked up and shook her head; a soft smile formed.

Daria looked at the museum. "I think I'll skip that place for a while; this has been a little surreal, even by my standards."

Amy reached down and lightly grasped Karen's arm and pulled her up. She put an arm around each younger woman.

"Cheese fries."

Daria looked at her. "You're buying; it's still my birthday."

Karen also looked at Amy. "Sounds good to me."

Amy pulled the two forward. "Deal."

* * *

The door to Daria and Karen's room opened and the three women stepped in.

Amy looked at Daria. "Are you sure that the parking restrictions are off this late?"

"Pretty sure. What are they going to do to you, withhold your grades?"

Amy laughed.

Karen yawned and gathered up a blue nightgown and her toilet kit. "It was…very interesting to meet you, Amy. I can see why Daria thinks so much of you. If you don't mind, I'm getting ready for bed. Still haven't shaken a lifetime of farmer hours. Good night."

"Good night, Karen. Happy to have met you. Hopefully, next time will be less stressful."

Karen smiled and exited the room.

Daria and Amy sat on Daria's bed. Daria hugged her aunt. "Thanks for stopping by on my birthday. Certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

Amy smirked. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to set all that up."

Daria smirked.

"Daria, tell your Mom and Dad I said hello when you see them next week for Thanksgiving. Also, tell Helen that I'm still jealous of her."

Daria pulled her head back. "Jealous of Mom?"

"Yes. Rita got, well, almost anything she wanted from our mother. I managed to coax a lot of my grad school tuition out of her. After Helen and Jake graduated from Middleton, they were on their own. Paid for their wedding, paid for Helen's law degree. Of the three of us, Helen got the least from Mom and ended up with the most."

"What do you mean?"

"You, Quinn, and Jake."

"Oh."

Amy stood and walked to the door. "I need to get going, too. Despite everything, I hope you had a happy birthday. Good night."

"Goodnight, Amy. Thank you."

Daria sat in thought for a couple minutes. She picked up the phone and entered her voicemail code. A mechanical voice answered: "You have three messages."

Daria entered the code to retrieve.

Beep

"Hey, Daria. It's Jane. I'll call back in a bit."

Beep

"Daria, Jane again. Guess I better give you a little more time."

Beep

"Daria, I'm trying to wish you happy birthday, dammit. What did you do, get kidnapped by the KGB or something? I'll try again tomorrow."

Daria hung up the phone, and raised one eyebrow.

* * *

Thanks to Ranger Thorne for the idea that got me thinking about Amy Barksdale as a professor.

Thanks for the comments and suggestions from Roger E. Moore, Mike Nassour, Kristen Bealer, Ranger Thorne, Isa Yo-Jo, sleepless, Steven Galloway, Decelaraptor, MrMagnum, Lawndale Stalker, and BetweentheLines at PPMB.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading.

July 2004  
Revised February 2005


	7. Home for Thanksgiving

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the seventh story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Home for Thanksgiving**

Daria Morgendorffer sat in a drab, institutional desk little different from the ones in high school. Said desk was near the front of a classroom in Newton Hall, Raft University. She was dressed warmly against the mid-autumn cold of Boston, brown pants pulled over her boots and a tan sweat shirt. Her grey jacket was hung on the back of the desk. She was partially slumped in the seat; her legs stretched out to the front and crossed at the ankles. She was neatly writing in a blue spiral notebook on the desk, next to a microcassette recorder.

Dr. Wilson was near the lectern, gesturing with a laser pointer at a large poster showing stylized plants and animals, connected by arrows.

"There, you have the basic idea of food webs and energy cycling. Wednesday, I'll cover primary and secondary productivity, in detail. That'll finish off our section on ecology."

He pocketed the pointer and collected his supplies from the lectern. Students rose unevenly and gathered their belongings, most exiting, some talking, and a couple walking up to Dr. Wilson. Daria rose, donned her jacket and exited Survey of Biology. As Daria left Newton Hall, Anna Stevens, a fellow resident of her dorm floor, caught up with her. She wore a long, plaid wool skirt with a maroon sweater, and her waist-length black hair was pulled into a long braid.

"Hi, Daria."

"Anna."

"Could you join me for lunch and help me with biology?"

"Sure. I was heading over to the Raft Sandwich Shop; does that sound good to you?"

"I can eat there. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The two women walked southwest off campus to a building in a mock-colonial style. Small restaurants filled the storefronts. The Raft Sandwich Shop was between The Big Bean Burrito and Callie's Barbeque. They walked to the order line and perused the illuminated menu overhead.

Anna said, "I appreciate this. We've been real lucky having you and Karen on our floor."

"Huh?"

"Two of the biggest brains in the freshman class, right there with us. And both of you always seem to be willing to help with this stuff. It's been so nice."

"Oh. To be honest, I'm still kind of getting used to it. A lot of people in high school avoided me for the same reason."

"They were idiots who missed out on a cool girl."

Daria smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Daria relaxed on her bed, three pillows stacked behind her for support, reading her history textbook. Her afternoon College Algebra class was uneventful with the exception that class would not be held Wednesday because of noon dismissal for the Thanksgiving Holiday. Her session with Ms. Poole was a little stressful, but the therapy seemed to help. She was accepting her looks better. She knew she could continue to dress in the plain and functional manner she had been, but now, she did it because she rationally wanted to, not because she was trying to hide her looks. The telephone ring broke her concentration; she leaned over to pick up the handset from the wall mount.

"Hello…Hi Mrs. Myerson…She is…Just a second."

"Karen, your Mom."

"Great." Karen jumped up from her desk and ran to the phone.

"Hi Mom…I'm doing well…Grades are fine…That's good…Hey, when should I expect the tickets?"

After a moment, Karen abruptly dropped onto her bed in shock.

"What happened?...Can't be helped…I know…I'll see what I can do here…Thanks…Okay. I love you…Good night."

Karen sniffled as she returned the phone to the cradle. She dropped back on the bed and began to cry.

Daria looked at her roommate and friend. "Karen?"

No response.

Daria crossed the small room and sat next to Karen. She hesitantly set a hand on Karen's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Karen rubbed her eyes and sniffed loudly. "I didn't have the cash on hand for a bus ticket home for Thanksgiving, so my folks were going to get one for me. The harvester had a major breakdown a couple days ago; they had to spend their money to get it fixed. I'm going to be stuck here over Thanksgiving break."

Daria thought for a moment. "Look, why don't I just get you a ticket on my plastic; you can pay me back later. I know you're good for it. Besides, I know where you live."

"I can't do that."

"Sure you can, a little at a time with your pay from the zoo."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Karen nervously rubbed her hands together in her lap. Embarrassed, her shoulders slumped and she looked at the floor. "I'm using that to eat with."

"What? I thought you had financial aid?"

"It was short of what I thought I was going to get. Plus, groceries here are a lot more expensive than I budgeted for."

"Oh."

She looked up with sadness in her eyes. "I'm barely able to keep myself going here. I don't know how I'll find the money to get home for Christmas break if my parents can't afford it."

"Karen."

"I don't know why I thought I could make it here. Mom and Dad were barely able to get my brother Terry through Georgia Tech, a state school, and they paid resident tuition. I wanted to go to the wonderful place my old boss had gone. I wanted to get out and see more of the world than Georgia. Where did it get me? Stuck in a school eleven hundred miles from home, shoveling crap in a zoo so I can eat."

"I owe you a lot. I'm willing to cover your ticket home. As a gift."

"No, Daria. I can't do that."

"Yes, you can."

"Daria, I'm touched by the offer. I hope you understand. It's something personal for me not to accept any significant amount of money from friends."

Daria recognized her friend's stubborn streak. "I can't change your mind, can I?"

"No. I wonder if I can get a ride with someone most of the way there. I could get somebody to pick me up at the end or hitchhike."

Daria stood and faced Karen, hands on hips. "Absolutely not. I am not going to allow one of my few friends to take a risk like that."

"How are you going to stop me?"

"Look. I understand personal integrity issues, so I accept you won't take a ticket home from me. But I don't want you to take a risk on finding a ride. Will you consider an alternative?"

"What kind of alternative?"

"My dad is driving up to get me Wednesday. Come home with me for the holiday. Sure, you'll be in a house full of nutters, but it beats being in the dorm alone or abandoned on an interstate somewhere."

"I'm not sure…"

"All you will have to accept will be free food. Since, as a college student, you are contractually obligated to have no objection to that, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Won't an extra person mess up their cooking plans?"

"I'll tell Mom to pick up extra from the deli. You don't think she actually cooks a Thanksgiving dinner, do you?"

"Should have known better. What about your Dad?"

"After the fireball incident, we won't allow him near a turkey."

"What if I still refuse?"

"I'll handcuff your butt to me if I have to."

"Like you have a set handy." Karen looked a little worried. "You don't, do you?"

"No, but I'm sure I could find some on short notice from one of those interesting 'boutiques' on the other side of Sorority Row."

Karen smiled a tiny amount. "How would you know about those?"

"Just picking up a few things for my wedding hope chest."

Karen laughed a little. "Like I believe that."

"Didn't think you would, but at least you laughed."

"I did. Thanks. That solves the holiday, but it doesn't help the long-term problem. Lack of money. No offense, but I get the idea that you've never seriously experienced that."

Daria looked at her friend. "Nothing like this, no. Look, I'm going to call Mom on her cell and get things set up. We'll work on the long-term problem later. Trust me."

Daria picked up the phone and entered her phone card code, waited, and then dialed Helen's cell phone number.

After several rings, Helen answered. "Hello."

"Hi, Mom. Do you have a minute?"

"Daria? Is everything alright? You're not hurt are you?"

"Mom, settle down. I'm fine, but I would like to ask something."

"Oh, go ahead."

"Remember when I told you, "I hope you'll understand when I don't bring my roommate home for Thanksgiving."

"Yes."

"Things have changed. Will it be okay if Karen stays with us for the holiday?"

"She's more than welcome. But, I'm a little curious about your change of plan. I thought we were too embarrassing." Helen let a hint of sarcasm drop into her voice.

Daria smiled slightly. "Well, you are, but I'm willing to risk it. Karen will otherwise be stuck in the dorm during the holiday. Kind of a money crunch, long story."

"Tell her to please come with. But, we better not tell your father she would be stuck in the dorm; you know how that could set him off."

Daria shivered. "Good plan. I'll surprise Dad when he gets here Wednesday. Tell him we set things up while he was on the way up."

"Sorry, dear. I do have to run. I look forward to seeing Karen again. Bye."

"Bye."

Daria hung up the phone. "You're in."

* * *

Dr. Wilson cleaned the white board as he spoke. "Speaking of secondary productivity. I hope everyone has a pleasant holiday and packs on a little extra biomass." Nobody laughed. He looked mildly disappointed at his failed joke. "Oh, well. See everyone next Monday."

The classroom cleared quickly that morning. Daria pulled on her heavy green jacket over a blue flannel shirt and black jeans. "I have a feeling February is really going to suck, temperature-wise."

She left Newton Hall and walked along the south sidewalk toward her dorm. Feeling one boot beginning to slip, she stopped at a bench, placing one foot on it. She pulled up that pant leg and started to retie the boot.

A young man with straight, red hair stopped next to her. Michael Fulton stood a little less than six feet tall, with a medium build. He wore a woodland camouflage, army surplus field jacket, jeans, and black work boots. He held a dark green backpack in his left hand by the shoulder straps. He pushed up his large, aviator style glasses and nervously shuffled his feet.

"Um…Hi, Daria."

She looked up at the man. She recognized him as fellow student from biology. Quiet, but always with the right answer when asked.

"Oh. Hi, Michael."

"I…um…umm…"

Daria nodded her head toward him a tiny amount as she finished tying her boot. "Yes?"

"Could I ask you something?"

Daria pulled down the pant leg over the boot, and stood up. "Go ahead."

Michael swallowed. "W…would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Daria looked at him, speechless.

Michael looked at her eyes, expectantly.

Daria sighed. "I…I'm going to have to say no. Nothing against you, I'm just not ready to date anybody now."

Michael deflated. "I understand. At least you were nice about it." He sadly walked away.

Daria watched the receding figure for a minute, confusion on her face. Finally, she pushed her hands into her jacket pocket and, head down, resumed her course to the dorm.

* * *

"Hanky-panky among the technicians. What does a mosquito lab need with six dozen natural membrane condoms? An investigative exclusive, next on _Sick, Sad World_."

Daria and Karen sat in the TV room/lobby of the dorm. Both had had winter coats folded next to them, and suitcases on the floor in front. Karen had her feet propped up on hers. Other residents milled around or traveled in and out as all prepared for the four day holiday.

Daria motioned to the television. "I must be getting soft; I used to not be able to go a day without this, now I hardly ever see it."

Karen sipped from a travel mug of coffee. "I bet if we had a TV in the room you would; you're just too lazy to walk down here."

"A case to consider."

"But look at how much better you've gotten on _Cannibal Fragfest_."

Daria looked at her watch. 1:10 PM. "I hate this waiting. I'll be so glad next year when we can get parking permits. If we had a car, we could've been on the road an hour ago."

Karen looked disappointed. "Providing I can come up with enough money to stay after this year."

"We'll find a way. It might have to be a little creative."

Karen raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing illegal. I don't want to explain to Mom why I need bail money."

A black woman stopped by the back of the sofa. Carly Stanton's short hair accented soft facial features. She had a black leather jacket on over a blue and white patterned sweater. "I'd be scared to find out what you would need bail money for."

Daria smiled. "Only some financial opportunities."

Carly briefly laughed. "Can't stay long, I'm meeting Tom, oh, five minutes ago. Have a good weekend, both of you."

Daria said, "You too."

Karen replied, "Don't get into too much trouble."

Carly waved and left.

Daria turned to Karen. "Remember, your ride broke down at the last minute. You don't want to hear him rant about being left at military school over holidays for the six hour drive."

"I'll pass on that. Say, why is your Dad making such a long round trip? Wouldn't it have been easier for you to take a bus or fly home? "

"He thinks it will give him some quality, 'bonding' time with me."

"So, you did have an ulterior motive to ask me along."

"I'm thinking of it as a side benefit."

Jake Morgendorffer walked into the lobby, looking around. He was dressed in slacks and a gray sweatshirt with "Raft University" on the front. He wore a dark blue jacket over that. Daria nudged Karen, and both stood.

"Dad, over here."

Jake turned, rushed over, and grabbed her into a bear hug. "Daria! I'm so glad to see you."

Daria gasped. "Dad, a little lighter, I'd like to breath."

He released his grip. "Sorry, got a little overexcited. How do you like the shirt? Bought it online from the bookstore."

"It looks good. Dad, Karen's ride broke down this morning. We worked out a deal between Mom and Mrs. Myerson for Karen to spend the holiday with us. Sorry for the short notice, but you were already on your way here."

"Hey! No problem. Your friends are always welcome. Guess we'll have to dust off the guest room for her."

Daria and Karen picked up their luggage.

Jake reached toward them. "Want me to get those?"

Daria said, "We've got them, but you can get the trunk open."

"Sure thing." He jogged out to the Lexus.

Daria started to walk after him. "Don't forget, we need to pick up some lunch on the way."

* * *

Three hours later, the nondescript view from I-95 continued to slide past the windows. Karen softly snored in the back seat, headphones in place, though her tape had shut off half an hour earlier. Daria was alternating between enjoying the warm familiarity of listening to her father's voice, cringing at some of his bonding attempts, and feeling amused as he related memories of his days at Middleton College.

"You know, Daria. It was right around this time of year that I first got to know your mother."

Daria's interest was piqued. While she had heard her mother's version of events, her father hadn't previously talked about it.

"Fall of Sixty-Eight. We had a freshman Poly-Sci course together. She sat two rows ahead of me in the lecture hall. I'd been watching and dreaming about her for a month. She was such a beautiful sight every class, and her enthusiasm to save the world was infectious. It took me a month to build up the courage just to ask her out."

Daria gave him a questioning look.

"Something you probably don't realize. Asking a young lady out can be one of the most terrifying things a man can try. Because of how crushing 'no' can be. Boy, do I know how that feels."

Daria's face dropped.

Jake snapped out of the incipient rant. "I approached her after class. Helen seemed nervous, but she said yes. We ate at the Hare Krishna free lunch stand and spent the afternoon at a rally in front of the admin building. Thirty-one years later, it was still the best gamble I ever made in my life."

Daria turned to face her side window, her brow furrowed in thought.

* * *

The blue Lexus pulled into the Morgendorffer driveway at eight that evening. Daria parked the car and looked over at Karen in the passenger seat. Daria reached over the seat back and nudged Jake, fast asleep.

"Dad, we're home. Dad." She pushed harder. "Dad, time to get up."

Jake started. "What? Oh. Hey, home already? Time sure flies."

"Yeah, Dad."

Daria opened the trunk. She and Karen retrieved their suitcases while Jake went ahead.

They found the house empty. Atop the clutter on the refrigerator was a note.

_7:25 PM_

_Jake,_

_Late getting home from work. Quinn and I left for the deli to pick up dinner for tomorrow. We already ate. If you're hungry, heat up some lasagna from the blue container. Should be back in an hour._

_Love, Helen._

Jake turned to the two women. "Daria, your old room's ready for you. The contractors finished up last week. Go ahead and show Karen to the guest room. Looks like we just missed your mom, I'll heat up something for us."

Daria motioned Karen up the stairs. They walked up, and Daria directed Karen to the door almost directly ahead. "That's the guest room, the bathroom is next door." Daria pointed down the hall to the right. "My room is the one on the left, Quinn's on the right."

They peeked in the guest room. Everything looked in order. Karen walked in, dropped her suitcase on the bed, and popped it open. "I want to change before dinner. How about if I meet you downstairs?"

"Sure."

Daria walked to the end of the hall and stopped at the door. She started to open it, but hesitated. She closed her eyes, pushed it open, inhaled, and opened her eyes.

The room was painted in a light green. Deep green curtains framed each of the four windows. The floor was covered in a buff colored carpet. A new bed was in the familiar corner, finished in a green bedspread. A richly stained wood dresser was against the wall to the left of the closet, a matching nightstand by the bed. Bookshelves and the computer desk were in their old places to the left of the door.

Daria had a sad smile. Her beloved padded room was truly gone. It was clear that her mother had tried hard to make a new room to suit Daria. A room Daria knew she would use only for visits.

* * *

The red SUV pulled into the Lane driveway and stopped. Daria and Karen stepped out and walked to the front door.

Karen looked to the side. "Interesting lawn ornament."

After Daria knocked, the door was opened by Jane. She jumped forward and grabbed Daria.

"Amiga! Glad you made it home."

Daria returned the embrace. "It's good to see you, Jane." Letting go, she waved her hand toward Karen. "Jane, Karen; Karen, Jane."

Jane raised her eyebrow. "So you're Daria's keeper for now."

"Luck of the draw, I guess."

"Come on in. I can really use some intelligent conversation."

Karen grinned. "So why are you inviting us in?"

Jane turned with her hands on her hips. "The force is strong in this one."

Daria smirked. "So's the gas."

Karen snapped back. "You weren't a lot of fun to be around after you ate one of the _Mucho Supremos_ from Big Bean Burrito."

Jane motioned the three upstairs. "After three days proctoring trimester finals, that is music to my ears."

Daria followed Jane. "If you think that's music, you've been exposed to excess amounts of Mystik Spiral."

Karen said over Daria's shoulder, "Come on, do these people really exist? I've heard Daria talk about them, but haven't heard a single bit of their music."

Daria turned her head. "Be glad."

Jane opened her room door. "Welcome to the Artist Extraordinaire's Den of Iniquity."

Daria walked in. "Please leave your taste at the door."

Jane turned and gave Daria a gentler hug. "After that little bombshell a few weeks ago, I've been worried about you."

"I've been worried too. But, both you and Karen have been a big help."

Karen sat on the bed and kicked up one foot. "Always glad to be of service."

Daria laughed a bit. "You two enjoy it too much."

Jane released Daria. "No good deed goes unpunished. You're still the reason I'm going to BFAC."

Karen became interested. "Oh? How's that?"

"After being rejected by two schools, I wasn't going to bother with the application. Daria…convinced me to send it in."

"Yeah, she does have this thing about her friends and college. She's now determined to keep me in school."

Jane gave her a quizzical look.

Karen looked a little embarrassed. "My finances are running tight. Daria has decided that she's going to single-handedly find a way to keep me at Raft."

"If she's applying that Morgendorffer Mercenary bent to the problem, you're in good hands."

"I hope so."

Daria inquired "Speaking of finances, how are your plans going, Jane?

"Between the TA job and what I've sold at Gary's, I got enough to cover summer now. I've been thinking, with you staying over the summer, I might for the first one, at least. It'll get me caught up, so I can graduate on schedule with you."

"So stuff's still selling."

"Who'd have thought that there was that much interest in Lawndale?"

"I guess everyone can't have Steve Taylor's taste."

"Thank God."

Karen asked, "I don't want to know, do I?"

Jane smirked. "Smart woman."

Jane grabbed two jewel cases off of her stereo. "Karen, since you asked. The Spiral's first CD single, _Freakin' Friends_. Here, you should have one too, Daria."

Daria looked at the proffered disk. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Come on, you have to admit, it's still the best song they've done."

"I know."

"Hey, it's even gotten a little airplay on the local alternative station. They've sold about fifty of them, so far."

"Oooh. Fifty."

"Better than the eighteen they sold of the vinyl _Behind My Eyelids_ single."

Karen motioned to the stereo. "Do you mind, my curiosity is piqued."

"Yeah, go ahead."

Daria warned, "We are not responsible for any brain damage that may result."

Karen started the CD and listened. When it was over, she turned to the both of them. "Believe me, I've heard a lot worse. I kind of like it, and it seems to fit you two."

Jane smirked. "Well…Trent did write it for us."

"Hey, will I get to meet him this weekend?"

Jane shook her head. "Nah. Lindy is hauling Trent to her folks so he could meet them. They won't be back until Sunday."

"So I guess it's you and your folks for the holiday?"

"Nope. Mom and Dad are off with the elk migrations in Alaska. I will finally get what I've long wished for; home alone with a TV dinner."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This will be the first holiday I've ever be able to relax. No family weirdness and no band practice.

Karen turned to Daria. "Is she serious?"

"Yep. Can't talk her out of it either. She's fantasized about this for years."

* * *

The large dining room table was arranged with seats at the end, three seats on one side, occupied by Daria, Karen and Quinn, and two on the other with Jake and Helen. The far end was set with the Thanksgiving dinner: a platter of sliced turkey breast in the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, cranberry sauce, corn and green beans. All carefully transferred from deli containers to serving dishes and heated in the microwave.

Karen stretched her elbows to the side. "Wow, what a concept. Elbow room at the table."

Helen asked, "Large extended family?"

"That's one way of putting it. Dad was the oldest of eight. They all want to bring their families home for the holidays, with Mom and Dad hosting. Last year we had thirty-one people eating."

"Sounds like you miss it."

"I do, but life goes on. Thanks for letting me stay this year."

"Friends of Daria's are always welcome."

Jake reached to the platter of turkey and held it before Karen. "Guests first."

Conversation dropped to single words as the food was passed around and servings made. Karen waited for the others.

Daria leaned over and whispered, "Go ahead and start eating; you're not going to hear grace or any mushy statements of thanks."

"Oh." Karen slowly picked up her fork when she saw Jake start in on his plate. _When in Rome._

Daria leaned toward Quinn. "So, how's the education of the QB coming?"

"Slow, painfully slow. He doesn't get as distracted when I convert everything to sports, but he still does. I'm hoping he at least passed his trimester finals."

"Quinn, if he does, I will officially be impressed."

"His parents' getting a divorce isn't helping. Mrs. Thompson has been real nice, though I think she wants me to start dating him." Quinn shuddered. "Mr. Thompson was such a pig. I can see where Kevin got some of his old charm. Mrs. Thompson threw him out a week ago."

"Be careful about any cross-fire."

Helen spoke up. "Don't worry; I'm keeping an eye on things."

Daria nodded. "Your lawyer reputation does come in handy, doesn't it?"

"Yes, dear."

Karen whispered to Daria, "At breakfast and lunch, I noticed everyone was reading. Some special ban on reading during dinner, or just Thanksgiving?"

"Thanksgiving. This is supposed to be a special family bonding time. If you want fireworks, bring out a paper and watch Mom's head explode."

Toward the end of dinner, Helen brought in a birthday cake for Daria. "Since it wasn't practical for us to be with you last week."

The chocolate cake had nineteen candles and "Happy Birthday Daria" written in green frosting. Helen, Jake, and Quinn chimed in on "Happy Birthday." Karen joined in.

When the off-key singing was completed, Daria blew out the candles. "I'm making it official. Please, no more singing."

Quinn went to the kitchen and returned with two packages. "The top one is from Mom and Dad, the bottom is from me."

Daria opened the first, finding a small wooden box. Inside was a six month CD worth 1000, due to mature in early May.

Jake said. "We never got you a pony, but a down payment on a car should make up for it."

Karen looked on in disbelief. _Damn. These people really are in a different world._

"Wow. Thanks." Daria hugged both of them. She turned to Quinn's package and opened it. Inside was a long, black winter-weight skirt.

"Um, thanks Quinn."

"Try it with that sweater I gave you when you moved."

"Sure." She gave Quinn a brief hug. "Still trying to give me makeovers. At least you're finding stuff more like what I would wear."

As the dinner ended, everyone lined up in the kitchen on the way to the dishwasher to deposit tableware. After placing his in the bins, Jake stepped away from the dishwasher and turned on the small television in the kitchen.

The news announcer spoke in a faux excited voice. "Local girl in surprise win at Lawndale raceway. The first place trophy for this year's Lawndale Turkey Day Amateur 100 stock car race went to seventeen-year-old Stacy Rowe."

The screen image showed Stacy, wearing a red racing jumpsuit and white helmet, sitting in the driver's window of a blue car. She held up a trophy and flashed "1" with her other hand.

Quinn's dishes clattered in the washer as they slipped from her hand. "Stacy!" She rushed to the television in surprise.

"Oh my God! That road grime can't be good for her pores. And, a jumpsuit! Sandi is going to die!" Quinn giggled. "So that's what she's been up to since last summer."

Karen put Quinn's dishes in place before adding her own. "I take it they know each other."

Daria started stacking hers in. "One of the former fashion fiends I told you about. I don't think she's so worried about fashion anymore."

Karen looked closely at the screen. "Then why does she have _Waif_ as a sponsor?

* * *

Daria sat at the desk in her redecorated old room. Her laptop was connected to the phone jack and she was beginning to make a connection. Jane sat on the bed while Karen watched over Daria's shoulder.

Karen said, "Kind of feel sorry for Quinn today. Working a mall on Black Friday."

Daria glanced over. "You don't understand her kind. She's in heaven."

"No, I really don't, then."

The computer emitted tones and noise as the connection was made. The start page began to slowly load.

"I forgot how much dialup sucks."

Karen lightly slapped her back. "We do get spoiled easily, don't we?"

"Guess so."

Jane asked, "So what's the plan?"

"I still have a bunch of sites bookmarked from when I searched for scholarships last fall. I transferred them from my other computer."

"I remember you didn't have much luck except the Wizard scholarship."

"I wasn't really trying that hard. It was more a formality to keep Mom happy. But now, we need to get serious."

Karen knelt beside Daria. "If you don't mind my asking, you seem to be pretty well set up, money-wise. How did you do that?"

"After a little trip to Middleton College when I was a sophomore in high school, Mom and Dad got serious about mine and Quinn's college funds. It also got a boost when Mom, and I suspect Aunt Amy, guilt-tripped Grandma Barksdale into a hefty contribution to each. Plus, Mom and Dad's common motivation to get us to do things was bribery; I saved most of mine."

"You are so lucky."

Daria looked at Karen. "I'm starting learn just how true that is. Now, to start entering data from the background material you gave me."

Daria was quickly engrossed in the search process. Karen wandered over to Jane, sketching Daria hunched over the computer like Quasimodo.

"How was your Thanksgiving?"

"It was nice and relaxing. Though I will admit now, I don't want to make too much of a habit of it."

Daria called over her shoulder. "Good. Now that you've gotten that out of your system, will you let me invite you over next time?"

"Yes, dear." Jane chuckled and turned back to Karen. "How was your day with the Morgendorffers?"

"Never had so much room before during a holiday, but it seemed a little strange."

"With this bunch, probably a lot strange. But, I'll take your word for it."

Daria looked up from the screen. "I think I found one. One thousand dollars per scholastic year awarded to direct descendents of Nine-Eighteenth Bombardment Group veterans." Daria checked her notes. "That was what you wrote down your paternal grandfather was with in World War Two. All you have to do is fill out the form to show you're a direct relative."

Karen looked over here shoulder. "I had no idea there was stuff like this out there."

"It's out there; the hard part is finding it."

* * *

Daria, Jane, and Karen were seated at a Pizza Prince booth with a pie divided between them. The Saturday afternoon crowd was a little larger than usual with holiday shoppers.

Karen gestured with a slice. "I must admit your high school is pretty creepy with those security cameras. Mine didn't have anything more complicated than barbed wire on the fences around the bus park."

"Still waiting to see how Ms. Li gets around the Feng Shue water fountain I put next to the hidden mike in the faculty lounge." Jane smiled sweetly.

Daria finished chewing. "Probably just put in a new one over holiday break and leave the old one as a decoy."

"Damn."

Karen set her slice down. "You're kidding. Hidden microphones?"

"Oh, yes. Nothing is too paranoid for our Ms. Li."

"That's even creepier."

Daria steepled her fingers in front of her. "I figure if Karen applies to all the funds we found yesterday, she should be pretty secure. However, there is one more option I would like to consider. I need to run it by both of you."

Jane said, "Run away."

Karen nodded.

"I've looked into the rent for three bedroom apartments between Raft and BFAC. With a three-way split, we can save Karen an extra fifty to hundred dollars a month compared to living in a dorm. But, we all three need to agree that we can tolerate each other."

Jane snickered. "I've put up with Trent for almost nineteen years. I'm in."

Karen looked surprised. "You want to keep me as a roommate after this year?"

Daria nodded. "Yes, Karen. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I tend to be possessive of my friends. I want to keep them around."

Jane raised her cup. "That's an understatement."

Daria glared at Jane. "So I can get to their throats easier."

Karen asked, "You're serious?"

"Karen. Yes."

"I agree. You are possessive of your friends. Count me in. Thanks for asking."

* * *

Sunday morning, Daria stood in the door of the closet as the cedar scent from the new paneling drifted around her. She held up the black skirt and green sweater that were gifts from Quinn.

"She really is trying to find things that I would more likely wear. I was planning on surprising her with the sweater, might as well add the skirt."

Daria changed into the new clothes. The black skirt flowed smoothly over her slim hips, and widened slightly to its full ankle length. The green cashmere sweater was closer fitting than she normally preferred, though the soft texture was pleasing to her skin. The effect accented her shape, without being suggestive. "I think I can live with this, occasionally."

A knock on the door diverted her attention. "It's open."

Jake walked in. "Trying on Quinn's gift. Real thoughtful of you. Where'd you get the sweater?"

"Quinn. She snuck it into my dorm room somehow when I moved in. First time I've had an occasion to wear it."

Jake shook his head lightly. "I am so glad you took after your mother instead of me. You look wonderful."

Daria blushed. "Um. Thanks."

"I came up to see if you needed anything carried down."

"I could probably get it, but you can carry my suitcase if you want."

Jake walked to the suitcase, and sat on the bed. "Daria, what do you think of the new room?"

"Very nice. Mom went to a lot of effort to make it suit me."

Jake motioned for Daria to come closer. She complied.

Jake's voice was quiet, and sad. "We're only going to see you as a guest, aren't we? You're not planning on moving back here."

Daria was taken by surprise by the comment. "How…how did you know?"

"I might spend half of my life clueless, but some things you just don't miss. It was in your eyes when we packed last August. I had that same look when I went to Middleton."

"It's not that I feel I was driven out."

"Not like I was. I know. But, you feel it's time to face life on your own terms."

"Yeah. So, why go to all this effort to make the room to suit me?"

"Your mother still expects you to come home this summer."

"You didn't say anything to her?"

"Your mother needs certain illusions to function."

Daria smiled as she remembered her mother saying the same thing about Jake.

"Please let me tell her, when I'm ready."

"Will do." Jake picked up the suitcase, and headed downstairs. Daria followed.

Quinn rose from the sofa. "Daria. You look great in that."

Daria hesitated a moment. "Thanks, Quinn. I do like this, and it's comfortable."

Jake continued out the front door.

Quinn scrutinized Daria a little more. "Just what I though. Classics work best on you."

"No more trying to get me in the latest fashion?"

Quinn laughed. "I guess not. You never really would have looked good in them. I've learned that some people look good in the latest fashions, others in timeless classics. Like you."

"Whatever the reason, I'm glad."

"Though we still need to do something about those glasses."

"Don't go there."

Quinn held up her hands. "Okay. One step at a time."

Daria gave Quinn a quick hug. "Take care, Sis. See you again in a few weeks. Don't kill Kevin; Mom doesn't need the extra billable hours."

"I promise. Those orange jumpsuits are so hideous."

"We must keep our perspective."

"Daria, you take care too. I'm still a little worried about you."

"Thanks, I will be careful." Daria headed out the door. Helen and Karen were waiting at the SUV. Jake was just closing the rear hatch.

"Okay folks, time to get this show on the road."

* * *

Helen, Daria, and Karen stopped for lunch in southern Connecticut, at a diner off I-95. Helen had a salad, Daria a burger and Karen a plate of fried chicken.

Karen was excitedly talking. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, it was amazing. Daria was able to track down enough grant and scholarship money, added to what I already have, to keep me afloat through graduation. I'm so happy."

"That's wonderful. Daria has shown a knack for pulling through to help her friends."

"Not only that, she invited me to stay with her and Jane when they get an apartment this summer."

Karen abruptly stopped and squeezed her eyes shut; hoping Helen hadn't picked up on it.

Helen turned to Daria and gave her a penetrating look. "Summer?"

Karen covered her face. "Damn."

Daria sighed. "I'd hoped to tell you under different circumstances. I decided to stay in Boston to attend class over the summer."

"I wondered if you would."

Daria gave her a questioning look.

"I can add up credit hours as well as you can. The only way you could finish on time with the double major was summer classes." Her voice lost its confidence and became quiet. "I was hoping that you would stay home at least one more summer though."

"Mom. I appreciated the effort you made to redecorate the room to suit me. But, Lawndale is your home; it's no longer mine. My home is in Boston. Can you understand?"

"Yes dear. I understand. I was just hoping for a little more time. You grew up far too fast, and I missed too much."

"Mom, I…"

"Daria, I do understand. It's the same choice Jake and I made. We moved into the group house with Coyote and Willow. You'll be moving in with Karen and Jane. It's a separation every mother has to deal with, but is never ready for."

"Mom, I will still be stopping to visit. How else can I mooch almost four days worth of free food?"

Helen smiled. "That's the college spirit."

Daria relaxed. She leaned toward Karen. "Don't worry, it was a minor slip. No real harm done, you just made me stop my procrastinating."

"Are you sure?"

Daria raised her eyebrows.

"You're welcome then. Another quality service I provide."

Daria turned back to Helen. "Mom. On the way down, Dad was telling about how he first asked you out. Would you mind giving me your side of the story again?"

Helen gave Daria a lawyer's stare. "Sure. We both had a horribly boring Political Science class together. It was mid-November. He asked me to lunch and an anti-war rally when we came out of class. He seemed so nervous. At first, I didn't know what to make of him; I hardly knew him, but he seemed sincere. So I took a chance on him."

"Hmm. Thanks."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason you're so interested?"

"It was a nice story, but you know how Dad exaggerates a little. I wanted a second viewpoint. What do you know, you both agree." Daria smiled.

"Hmm. We do agree at times, don't we?" Helen continued to give Daria a look.

* * *

Daria and Karen waved to Helen as she drove away. They carried their suitcases into Fenderson Hall and into the elevator. After the long drive, they remained quiet as they exited and made their way into room 316. Daria dropped her suitcase near the closet. Karen dropped hers on her bed. Karen turned to Daria.

"Okay, give it up. Why were you asking your mother about how your father first asked her out?"

"I was curious."

"My butt." Karen's eyes lit up. "Somebody asked you out."

No response.

"Daria."

Daria slumped into her desk chair. "Michael, someone in my Bio class."

"And you said?"

"No. But I'm starting to reconsider."

Karen's eyes shifted left and right. "He asked you out as you were leaving class."

"Yes."

"So, you can be a romantic. A little history repeating itself."

"I don't know."

* * *

Leaving Newton Hall the following Monday morning, Daria tapped Michael on the shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Um…Can we talk?"

Michael looked surprised, but nodded at a nearby bench. The two walked over and sat.

"I…had some things on my mind last week. I'm sorry. Can I reconsider my answer?"

He looked lost.

Daria took a deep breath. "Do you still want to go out with me?"

His eyes popped open in surprise. "Y…yes."

"Then I agree."

* * *

Thanks to Steven Galloway for his Morgendorffer house plans posted at Glitter Berries.

Thanks to PPMB residents Lawndale Stalker, Steven Galloway, Isa Yo-Jo, Ranger Thorne, Kristen Bealer, Mike Nassour, and renfield1969 for comments, suggestions and general nit-picking :)

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowell for beta reading.

August 2004  
Revised February 2005


	8. Winter's Eve

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the eighth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Winter's Eve**

"That's it?"

Daria Morgendorffer, dressed in a slightly loose, dark blue sweater and a long, black skirt, set down her brush and turned to face her roommate, Karen Myerson's, question. "What's it?"

"You're wearing that on a first date?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Karen, I don't need any of your crap tonight. I'm nervous enough as it is. Come on, you can actually see that I have boobs in this sweater."

"But don't you think at least a little…" Karen's straight face broke and she lost her composure as a laughing fit hit full force.

Daria put her hand to her head. "Karen, you will die for that. I will tranquilize you and drop you in with the Komodo dragon at the zoo, make sure it gnaws on you for a good long while, and then pull you out so you can die in agony from multiple bacterial infections."

Karen stifled the laughter, sniggered a little more, and then finally regained control. "Daria, you look great. I hope you enjoy yourself."

"With friends like you..."

"…Enemies don't seem so bad."

Daria smiled. "What are your plans tonight? It's not like you've exactly dressed up."

"My turn to spend a Friday in the library. I want to get my English Comp term paper out of the way this weekend so it won't be hanging over me next week."

"You're turning into me."

"I promise it's only for the weekend. You can have your identity back on Monday."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I don't want it any longer than that."

"Gee, thanks."

"One question, then you can leave."

"Fine, one question."

"Were you this nervous before your first date with that Tom guy?"

Daria's face paled. "Karen, how Tom and I got together was not one of my proudest moments. I don't have time for the whole sordid story now, but let's just say I felt so many conflicted emotions, nervous was way down on the list."

"Um. Okay. Look, I just hope you have a nice evening."

"Thanks. Good luck with your stuff."

* * *

Daria carried her heavy, green winter jacket over one arm when she met Michael Fulton in the lobby of Daria's dorm, Fenderson Hall. His bright red hair stood out in contrast to the woodland camouflage jacket he wore. He walked to her as she exited the elevator.

"Hi, Daria."

"Michael."

He stood, staring.

"Michael. The implication in 'going out' is that we do have to physically move somewhere."

He started. "Sorry."

Daria smiled a little. "Surprised?"

"What? Oh. A little. I mean."

Daria put a hand on his shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm probably as nervous as you are."

Michael smiled. "Thanks. Shall we?"

They walked out the door, with Daria putting on her jacket before the early December cold hit them.

* * *

Daria and Michael left the movie theater. They closed their coats against the cold wind and began walking to the small diner next door.

Daria looked sideways at Michael. "Nothing like a post-apocalypse classic to get you ready for the New Year."

"I was wondering what you were thinking when you suggested it."

They walked in silence a few seconds.

Michael asked Daria. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Daria slipped a look at him. "I could ask you the same."

They walked into the diner and placed their coats on a rack. The waitress took drink orders as she sat them at a table for two. She rapidly returned with coffee for each.

Michael sipped the hot coffee. "Thank you. I've enjoyed this."

Daria looked over here coffee. "Wasn't that supposed to be my line?"

"Was it?"

"Well, if it was a conventional date."

"Oh."

"Or so I've been told. Michael…I haven't exactly dated a lot of guys, um, three, and…this is the first date I've had since starting school in Boston. That's why I've been a little nervous."

Michael blushed. "I was nervous because…this is my first date."

"First as in, you've never been on a date before, first?"

"Yes."

"I thought I lived a sheltered life."

"Everyone I ever asked out in high school said no. Who wants to go out with the red-headed geek with glasses and no social skills?"

"I'm sorry. I spent most of high school as the Misery Chick that nobody wanted to associate with."

Michael smiled at Daria. "You said you dated a little, so somebody at least had some good taste back then. As for me, I'm lucky to make up for it by going out with someone like you."

"What, another outcast?"

"No, a brilliant, witty, and beautiful girl."

Daria sat back nervously. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Michael had a look that said, "That's obvious." He nodded.

Daria forced herself to be calm. "Sorry. I've never been comfortable with compliments like that. Long story. Thank you."

"Why…I'm sure you'll tell me if you think it's important. You are most welcome."

"So, what brings you to Raft?"

"Ah…Archeology. Well, History, and then Archeology in grad school."

"English and Education. I'm from Lawndale, Maryland."

"Detroit, Michigan."

"Well, that was boring."

"But, kind of needed."

Daria smiled. "Any other dreadful secrets we need to share?"

"I wear a size eleven boot."

Daria smiled, remembering making a similar comment to her father at a conference two years ago. "Six and a half."

* * *

Daria and Michael stopped outside the dorm entrance.

"So, that's what a normal dinner-and-a-movie date is like."

"But I though you said you dated someone in high school."

Daria smiled. "I did, but his ideas of dates were…different."

Michael raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing like that. We would do things like poke fun at the bad poetry in greeting cards at the drug store."

"Sounds like a cheap guy."

"No, and yes."

"Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the evening."

"I did. You're a nice guy; the girls in your old high school missed out."

"Maybe I can get you to tell them sometime."

Daria smiled again. "It's getting cold. We better say goodnight. I'm right by my dorm, but you still have to walk across the quad to yours."

"I take the hint." He very lightly raised her gloved hand and kissed it. "Good night."

Daria blushed. "Uh. Good night."

Michael waved and turned for his walk back to his dorm. Daria watched for a little while before going inside. The RA at the desk gave her a brief nod as Daria passed on her way to the elevator.

Inside her room, Daria quietly turned on her desk lamp near the door. The light provided enough illumination to see that Karen was asleep on her bed. Daria looked at her watch. 10:36. She smiled at her roommate. _Farm girls don't seem to be able to get used to vampire hours._

Daria quietly moved to her small closet and opened it. She shed her clothes and dropped them into the laundry basket within. She pulled a warm nightgown from the closet and put it on. Karen stirred.

"Have a good time?"

"We were out of control."

"Glad to hear it. Just remember not to get arrested. I won't bail you out."

Daria picked up her toilet kit. "Like I would even call you." She said as she left the room for the communal bathroom down the hall.

Daria stood in front of the sink; she'd finished the rest of her evening ritual, and was brushing her hair.

"He said I was beautiful."

She smiled, looked doubtful, and then forced the doubt away.

"I think he was sincere." Daria smiled again at the memory.

The rattle of a stall door caused Daria to jump. Robin Hollister walked out wearing a blue bathrobe, closing a bottle of nail polish. The brunette stood a full head taller than Daria.

"So, the men at Raft aren't blind after all."

"You heard me?"

Robin smirked. "Yeah, I was in the stall doing my nails." She pointed to her bare feet. "The RA was really PO'd when I spilled a bottle in my room, so I do it in here now."

"I'd think any splash of color would help those carpets."

"That's what I thought. So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Michael Fulton."

"Don't know him. You seem to like him, based on the smile on your face."

"I think I do. He was sweet, funny, and honest."

Robin walked to the door. "Sounds like a winning combination, plus, he has good eyesight. G'night."

"Good night."

Daria looked back into the mirror. _I'll keep my mouth shut in case anyone else is hiding in here. Dad, Mom. Thanks for giving me the courage to reconsider. Michael does have the same sweetness I saw in Ted, the wry humor of Tom, and he's intelligent. I feel so…I don't know…nervous, but also comfortable._

* * *

Quinn Morgendorffer sat at her lunch table with Stacy, Tiffany, and Sandi.

Tiffany talked over her salad. "Thanks Quinn, the grades on my report card are better."

Quinn smiled. "Oh, Tiffany. Just helping a friend."

Kevin rushed up to the table. "Quinn! I passed!" He waved his report card in front of her. "Wow. You really did it."

She stopped his hand and read the card. _"D" in every subject_, she thought. _Barely, but it is passing._

"Okay, Kevin. Settle down."

Quinn was aware of every eye of the senior lunch watching her.

"I knew you could do it." _Yeah, right._ "Congratulations."

"It's all because of you. Who would have thought you had as much brains as your sister?"

Sandi loudly said, "Quinn. How unfortunate. Like your sister?"

Quinn glared at Sandi. "Yes. Like my sister."

Kevin backed away from the clear tension between Quinn and Sandi.

Sandi grimaced. "What has become of us? You've turned into a brain and Stacy…races cars. Doesn't anyone understand the importance of being fashionable anymore?"

Stacy started to shrink away, but then looked annoyed.

Quinn responded, "Yes, Sandi. But some of us also understand how important it is to pay attention to something other than looking like a fifteen-year old."

Sandi rose from her seat. "Something more important…wait…are you implying that I'm immature?"

"At least the way you dress."

Kevin slunk away to his regular table, ducking slightly in case things began to be thrown.

Sandi put both hands on her hips. "These are the finest new teen fashions."

Quinn remained seated. "Exactly. Maybe you should join the rest of us in shopping in the women's section of Cashman's."

Stacy folded her arms in front. "Sandi. I like driving. I'm proud of winning the race last week. I thought all my friends were, too. I'm the youngest person to win, and only the second woman. And, even _Waif_ is changing; that's how I was able to get a sponsorship from them."

Tiffany looked over. "It's not like we're freshman anymore."

Sandi was livid. "Very well, then. I guess everyone has just lost their senses." She slid away from the table and stalked out of the cafeteria. Low-level laughter rose as she passed tables on the way out.

Stacy looked embarrassed. "I…I didn't want to upset her. But that race was important. I worked with my Dad on that car since June."

Quinn patted her hand. "Stacy, don't be hard on yourself. We are proud of you. This was bound to happen after we dissolved the Fashion Club. That was the center of Sandi's life. She still hasn't accepted that all of us outgrew it."

* * *

Michael said, "I must say, this is a nice way to finish off a Monday."

He and Daria were viewing the student art exhibit at Lavell Hall, home of the Raft fine arts and design departments.

"Sure beats looking at Karen flailing away at her computer."

He chuckled. "She can't be that bad."

"She's not the most graceful typist, so she makes mistakes. I think a lot of the problem is that her hands drift away from the base keys, resulting in gibberish afterward. This frustrates her, so she gets animated with the computer." Daria gazed upward a little. "It's an art form, the way she can string together expletives in the most descriptive, graphic, and improbable combinations imaginable."

"I bet that gets entertaining."

"At times, but it gets frustrating when you are trying to concentrate."

They browsed in silence for a couple minutes more. Daria noticed a work to the side and raised her left hand to point it out, to discover she was holding Michael's right hand.

_When did that happen?_

Michael looked down and noticed also. "You okay with this?"

Daria looked down at the hands in question. "Um…sure."

Mike gently rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand.

Daria felt herself relaxing. _Hmmm._

"Were you trying to point to something?"

Daria used her right hand. "That one, over there."

They walked over to a surrealist painting in blues and greens. The swirls within the painting formed small, random images throughout.

Daria studied the painting. _This one seems so appropriate._

An hour later, their tour finished, and unwilling to face the near-freezing temperatures outside, they sat on a bench along the edge of the gallery.

They were still holding hands. Michael placed his other hand over Daria's.

"Viewing a gallery is much more interesting with company."

Daria felt the minor fatigue of a long day of walking. Without a conscious thought, she leaned against Michael's arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Mmmm_."_

Michael looked down at the auburn hair resting on his shoulder. He lightly kissed the surface, and smiled.

Fifteen minutes later, Daria gave a small start as she realized she had dozed off. She still leaned against Michael, her hand still held by both of his.

"Whoa. Sorry about that."

"What's to apologize for?"

"You're not insulted I nodded off?"

"I liked feeling you next to me. I didn't mind."

Daria began to slowly rise from the bench. "But, I'll take it as a hint that I need to get going."

Michael rose also. "I'll walk you home."

As they stopped to put on their coats, Daria felt a chill on her hand as it was no longer held. She looked at her hand in curiosity.

They both failed to put their gloves on when the left the building. Daria put her right hand in a pocket, and found her left seeking out Michael's. They walked in silence back to the dorm.

They stopped outside the door. Michael raised Daria's hand.

"Good night."

He moved to kiss her hand again. Daria raised her other hand to stop him.

"My turn."

She raised herself up on her toes, partially pulling up with her hands braced against his. She gave him a soft kiss.

"Thank you for a pleasant evening. Good night."

Daria lowered herself back down and disengaged her hands. She gave him a smile and walked into the building.

* * *

Quinn looked at the clock on the wall of the Thompson's kitchen, and was relieved by what she saw.

"Six o'clock. That's it for today."

Kevin nodded. "Okay."

Quinn began putting her books and supplies into a backpack.

Kevin closed his book and stacked it with some others. "Quinn. Sorry about Monday. I was kind of excited about my grades."

"'Kind of' is an understatement."

"What did it go under?"

"Never mind. I could tell you were excited."

"I know they were only D's, but I got them myself."

"So you were getting 'by's the whole time."

"Yeah. But Mr. O'Neill wouldn't do it last year."

"Mr. O'Neill failed you?"

"Yeah. Coach Gibson was pissed. But O'Neill wouldn't change the grade."

_O'Neill? Having the backbone to stand up to Coach Gibson?_ "You don't seem mad at Mr. O'Neill."

"I was. But…I was flunking English."

"You're doing better now."

"Yeah, I guess."

Quinn finished her packing and began to leave.

Kevin stopped in front of her. "Quinn, can I tell you something?"

Quinn nervously replied, "Um…okay."

"I…uh…kind of treated you like my babe when I did the science project with Daria. But…now…you're like…the first girl that has been my friend."

Quinn looked at him with surprise.

"Anyway, thanks for tutoring me."

"Oh. Yeah. You're welcome. Keep up with your reading. I'll be back next Monday."

Quinn left the house as Kevin said, "Good-bye."

* * *

Karen sat in front of small makeup mirror set on her desk, applying lipstick. She was in a shapely, red dress. "Third date in a week," she said. "After months of living like a nun, you can hardly stay away from the guy."

Daria straightened the collar on the deep purple shirt she had on and checked that the buttons were straight. The shirt was tucked into black pants. "Odd behavior for me, isn't it?"

Karen closed the lipstick and nodded. "That's one way of putting it."

Daria sat at her desk and smiled. "He certainly has made an impression."

"At least you haven't asked me to stay out of the room yet."

"Karen!"

Karen laughed as she dodged the pencil thrown at her.

Daria glared. "Good thing you haven't asked the same thing for you and Derek."

"Crap. You got me."

Daria evilly smirked at Karen. "Two virgins can't give each other a lot of hell about their sex lives, can they?"

"Guess not."

Daria dropped her slim wallet and keys into pockets and grabbed her heavy green coat. "Ready to go out and face our raging hormones?"

Karen picked up a black purse and her khaki coat. "Not so sure about raging, I think mine are just grumpy."

Daria looked at the color clash between coats and clothes. "Quinn would die to see us like this."

"We can only hope."

Michael was waiting in the lobby as the two exited the elevator. He waved and walked toward them.

Karen leaned over and whispered to Daria, "You do realize that he has exactly the same color hair as your sister."

Daria stopped and narrowed her eyes at Karen. "You will regret saying that, in the worst possible way."

Michael reached them and picked up Daria's hand. "Hi."

"Hi, Michael. This is my roommate, Karen. This is Michael."

Karen extended her hand. "Good to meet you."

Michael reluctantly released Daria's hand and shook Karen's. "I've heard a lot about you."

Karen raised an eyebrow.

"Mostly good, probably seventy-thirty."

Karen smiled and released his hand. "You two head out, I'm waiting for Derek here."

* * *

A light snow was falling as Daria and Michael left the Boston Lampoon's theater.

Daria said, "Somehow, performing _The Importance of Being Earnest_ in Star Trek costumes doesn't do it for me."

"Sorry, I guess tonight's choice of entertainment was a bust."

"But the company wasn't."

They reached the bus stop nearby and took a seat inside the shelter.

Michael again held Daria's hand in both of his. "We won't have time to get together next week, what with finals and all. How about we get together before we leave next Saturday for Christmas holiday?"

"Need to make it a breakfast date, my flight home is at eleven-twenty."

"Deal."

Michael moved his arm over Daria's shoulder and looked to her face for approval. She leaned into the crook of his arm as he gently pulled them together.

* * *

The snow was falling harder when they stepped off the bus.

When they reached Daria's dorm, Michael released Daria's hand and turned her to face him. "I won't keep you out here in the cold long. Good night."

He held her cheeks in his hands and leaned down to kiss her. After a couple seconds, they separated. Daria reached up and held both his hands. "Good night."

* * *

Daria leaned back from her desk chair and pulled a slice of pizza from the box on her dresser. The normally neat room looked like the aftermath of a party. Empty pizza boxes were scattered around, along with empty cans and bottles. Karen was sprawled on her stomach, facing Daria from her bed. Textbooks, notes and microcassete tapes added to the disorder.

Daria eyed the slice in her hand. "I didn't think it would be possible, but I'm going to enjoy taking a break from pizza after this week."

"Damn Cheap and Cheesy for their 'We deliver to Raft dorms every hour, on the hour' special."

"Talk about brilliant marketing. Just have somebody stop by the dorms with a stack of pizzas and sell them in the lobby. No calls, no fuss."

"Except the close combat with the other residents to get the pizza first."

"I got to see Michael briefly after the bio exam today."

"How's he doing?"

"About like us, surviving."

Karen noted the slight sadness in Daria's voice. "You've missed him this week, haven't you?"

Daria nodded. "At least I get to see him Saturday before I leave. Any word from your parents?"

"They package-shipped the tickets; I should have them tomorrow. Wish I was flying instead of taking a bus, but at least I'm getting home."

"Glad you're making it."

Karen looked around the room. "It's going to suck cleaning this place tomorrow after our last finals."

"No kidding."

* * *

Jane Lane walked into the faculty lounge. _Last time I have to face these loonies_.

Most of the faculty was gathered around a table. Claire Defoe motioned Jane over to them. They parted to reveal a small cake on the table with "Good-bye and Good Luck, Jane" written on it.

Claire embraced Jane. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your work this year. I wish I could keep you for the rest of the school year."

"Thanks, Claire."

"I know you will do well at BFAC. I wish you the best. And don't be a stranger; you aren't just a colleague, you're my friend."

"Mine too. I won't be a stranger."

Anthony Demartino shook Jane's hand. "Good luck, Ms. Lane. It was a pleasure to work with you, even if you still have some trouble with authority." He gestured to the small water fountain Jane had placed next to Ms. Li's hidden microphone.

"All part of the complete service."

"I understand you will be in Boston with Ms. Morgendorffer."

"That's right."

"Please give her my regards. She was the best student I ever had, even if her sarcasm was over the top."

"I'll make sure I tell her those exact words."

The other faculty members stopped by to give their best wishes and comments. _They're not as bad as I used to think they were. _She glanced at Janet Barch and Timothy O'Neill talking in one corner. _But it's probably a good thing I didn't know about some things when I was a student._ _Overall, I do have more respect for them. They're good people._

"Ms. Lane."

Jane ground her teeth at the sound of Ms. Morris' voice. She and her old gym teacher had not gotten along well when Jane was a student, and the state of affairs had continued. By mutual agreement, they had not spoken since the beginning of the year.

"Yes."

Morris extended her hand. "I was wrong."

* * *

Karen hefted her large travel backpack onto her shoulders. She was dressed for travel in jeans, a plaid flannel shirt, and heavy jacket.

"Well, Daria. One down, too many more semesters to go." She hugged her friend.

"We got through. I do mean, we."

Karen grinned. "It will be my pleasure to return in a couple weeks to keep your butt on the straight and narrow."

"You know what that is?"

"I got the Cliff's Notes."

"You have a safe trip."

"You, too. Enjoy your breakfast, also." Karen grinned and exited the room.

Daria finished packing her two suitcases, one smaller carryon that also held her laptop and one for checked baggage. She smoothed the green cashmere sweater she wore over black jeans. After grabbing her coat, she headed out for the bus stop in front of campus.

Michael was waiting as she approached. His now familiar camouflage jacket bundled around him. A single suitcase was on the ground, and a cloth backpack beside it. Daria set her luggage down and they quietly embraced.

* * *

"How romantic. Breakfast in an airport eatery." Daria smirked. The two sat at a table covered with the remains of a quick breakfast, foam cups, paper plates and plastic forks.

"I thought it would be such a perfect setting, guess I'll have to make up for the lack of atmosphere then." Michael produced a box about six inches long and two inches wide from his pocket. It was wrapped in gold, with a green ribbon. "Merry Christmas."

Daria accepted the package with a little caution. She reached down to her carryon and opened it, withdrawing a package in blue foil and handing it to him. "Merry Christmas, yourself."

Michael found a new copy of _Roman Military Equipment_. "Barbarian slaughter and Roman archeology. You sure know how to get a man's attention." His broad smile showed how much he enjoyed the gift. "Now, yours."

Inside, Daria found a pendant on a gold chain. The cabochon in the center of the pendant was malachite. Delicate green tones streaked diagonally across the stone gave a striking contrast to the gold setting. She withdrew it with surprise and awe. "This is gorgeous."

"Like you."

"Michael, this is…"

"Just right for you. May I?" He reached across the table, took the necklace, and opened the catch. He slowly put it around her neck and closed it. "As I expected. Perfect."

Daria looked down to see the pendent resting just above her breasts. Her voice was a whisper. 'Thank you."

"Truly, my pleasure."

She leaned over the table to give him a kiss. "Michael, I can't begin to say how happy I've been the last couple weeks." She sat back in her seat and held up the pendant. "You're wonderful."

"My appreciation for you giving me a chance."

The airport PA system announced the next flight to Detroit was boarding.

Michael's face dropped. "Damn. That's me." He stood, grabbed his backpack and picked up his gift. Daria rose and quickly hugged and kissed him.

"I'm going to seriously miss you."

"So will I. And I will be looking forward to seeing you again in January. Take care, Daria. Have a Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Michael. Please have a safe trip."

Michael turned and waved as he vanished into the moving crowd. Daria sat in silence, holding the pendant as she waited for the call for her flight.

* * *

Jane yelled and waved. "Daria! Over here!"

Daria located the voice and motion, maneuvering through the crowd. The two briefly embraced.

Daria said, "Thanks for picking me up. I still need to get my checked baggage; hopefully it won't be too long." She started walking toward the baggage claim.

"Hey, no problem. Hope you don't mind riding home in the Tank."

"It made it this far?"

"Miracles do happen."

"Let's hope another happens and I get home."

Jane noticed a glint of gold at the top of Daria's shirt. She reached out and pulled up on the necklace to reveal the pendant. "Looks like that boy you've been seeing likes you."

"I couldn't believe it when he gave it to me this morning."

Jane stopped Daria so she could inspect it. "Got good taste."

Daria smiled.

"You like him, too."

"Shows, doesn't it?"

"You might as well wear a neon sign."

"I can't remember feeling happier than I have the last two weeks."

"Dammit, woman. Now I can't play matchmaker for you when I get to Boston next month."

"Sorry to spoil your fun."

"Don't be. Happiness looks good on you."

* * *

Thanks to the commentators at PPMB, Steven Galloway, atimnie, Lawndale Stalker, Kristen Bealer, MrMagnum, Decelaraptor, Isa Yo-Jo, Mike Nassour, gearhead, Parker-man, Roger E. Moore, and renfield1969.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading.

August 2004  
Revised February 2005


	9. Holiday Breaks

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the ninth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Holiday Breaks**

Daria Morgendorffer looked up from her laptop, stretched her arms over her head, and arched her back at the same time. The sleeves of her loose, grey sweatshirt were rolled up to the elbows. The green sweat pants matched the shirt in looseness. Almost out of place with the comfortable, nondescript clothes was a pendant on a gold chain around her neck. The deep, streaked green of the malachite cabochon contrasted strongly with the shirt fabric. The new desk and chair in her former bedroom felt odd after the many hours spent with those in her dorm room at Raft University. Next to the laptop was a copy of her latest Melody Powers story, liberally covered with editor's marks.

"Guess I was lucky with the first story they accepted. The editors certainly brutalized this one a lot more." She squinted at a mark. "What the hell is that? It'll be great when more publishers go over to electronic submissions and I don't have to interpret handwriting."

After a few moments, she set the manuscript down and rubbed her eyes. She swung the chair around to allow a view of the redecorated room; the pale green walls and dark green curtains were clearly meant to make her comfortable. However, they made the room feel strange and cold instead. For Daria, the old padding added a kind of warmth the new look didn't. The Christmas season often made Daria feel out of place. The forced, faux cheer ground against her sense of honesty most of the time. She placed her hand on the pendant. _This year I do have something extra to cheer me._

Daria heard the faint knocking at the door and turned to face the sound.

"It's open."

Her sister, Quinn, poked her head inside. "Can I talk with you?"

Daria motioned her in. "Go ahead."

Quinn closed the door behind her before walking over to Daria's bed. She sat with her hands clasped together in her lap. "How do you do it?"

Daria gave Quinn a confused look. "Do what?"

Quinn looked down in embarrassment. "With guys."

Daria continued to be confused. "What with guys?"

Quinn looked up, a little frustration showing through the embarrassment. "Get them to fall for you the way they do."

Daria stared at Quinn in stunned silence.

"Please?"

"You're asking me for advice, about…guys?" Daria turned around in her chair, resting her forearms on the chair back.

"Daria, I'm serious."

"Sorry, I was surprised. You've forgotten more about dating than I'll ever know."

"Daria, I'm not talking about dating. I'm talking about getting a guy to…care for you. Like last year with Tom, or now with Michael."

"Oh. But what about those three boys that always follow you, Joey, Jamie and Jeffy?"

"That's become more of a sad joke than anything else. Joey and Jeffy are more interested in trying to one-up the other than they really are with me."

"What about Jamie?"

"He's been more interested…in somebody else." _You, ever since he saw that family portrait. You really don't need to hear about that._

Daria thought for a moment. "I don't really know what I'm doing, besides being myself."

"That's what I don't get. You say 'being yourself', but that includes that damn antisocial front of yours. How do you get them to see past that? I've always been more outgoing and social. But, nobody ever seems to be interested in me beyond a couple dates." Quinn looked at Daria with deep sadness.

Daria rested her chin on her arms and thoughtfully looked at Quinn. "Maybe…because you've been more successful than I was at keeping a façade between yourself and the rest of the world. My friends have seen through mine: Jane, Karen, Jodie, Mack, Trent. Tom saw through it. Michael, he's seen through better than anyone except Jane. It doesn't seem that your friends have really seen past the façade to see you. Certainly none of the guys you dated did. You keep up a bubbly, social front, but won't let anybody get close to you."

Quinn looked at Daria.

"Quinn, that's the best I can do. I'm certainly no expert at this."

"Maybe you're right."

Daria gave a small nod.

"Daria, you also have something else. Believe me. I think you are going to continue finding nice guys attracted to you."

Quinn walked over to Daria and lifted the pendant. "I envy you so much."

"Quinn, you've gotten much nicer presents from boys."

"Be honest. Those were bribes to try to get in my pants. This…is something more."

"It does mean a lot to me."

Quinn set the pendant back against Daria's shirt. "My point. I've probably dated more guys in a single night than you've dated in your life. But, you've found so much more happiness than I have from it."

"Quinn. You'll find somebody."

Quinn sat on the desk. "I'm starting to doubt that."

"Why?"

"It hit me when Lindy and Trent started dating. They both took a risk to start, and they also found something. I started to think that, except that time I asked David out, I never take emotional risks. Now, I don't even have much a chance to try."

"Why not?"

"Daria, you've been home for almost a week. How many dates have I gone out on?"

Daria was still for a minute, and then stared at Quinn with wide eyes. "You haven't been out since I got here."

"For me, there's basically nobody left to date. If it's somebody I've dated before, either I don't want to see them again, or they don't want to put in the effort to take me out again. Even in the other towns of the county, I'm known as a very expensive tease."

"Quinn, I'm sorry. It's not the end of the world. Things may look bleak now, but, you'll be heading to college yourself in eight months. There'll be a lot more guys to see. Just be ready to take a little more of a chance."

"But, eight months?"

Daria smiled. "Use the time to study. I hear from Jane that you're starting to be considered a brain. If you get the rep, you might as well use it. Make your life a little easier in college."

Quinn produced a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, I think."

"Any time. You still have a lot of chances ahead of you. I think you'll do fine, finding somebody."

Quinn's smile strengthened. "I hope so. I appreciate the help." She started toward the door.

"Don't mention it. Ever." Daria smirked.

Quinn turned as she opened the door. "I promise, I'll only mention it when it's to my advantage."

"Get out of here."

Quinn started to close the door; then briefly reopened it. "Oh, yeah. Daria, could you please try not to tie up the phone so much tonight?" Quinn rapidly closed the door before she could hear a response.

* * *

"Happy Humbug." Daria greeted Jane, Trent and Lindy at the front door. A wreath, hung a bit off-center, shook with the motion. Daria opened the door wider and motioned the three to come in.

Jane called from behind Trent and Lindy. "Ho, ho, freaking, ho to you, too."

After Daria closed the door, Trent stopped next to her. "Daria, this is Lindy. Lindy, Daria."

"Hi, Lindy. Nice to finally meet you."

Lindy appeared apprehensive, and quietly said, "Good to meet you, too."

Jane quickly hugged Daria and spun away to greet the rest of the house. "Hey, everybody!"

The three newcomers shed their coats and started further into the house.

The rest of the Morgendorffers were sitting in the sofa sections in the living room. A Christmas tree stood in the windowed corner of the living room. Red and green ribbons were looped along the upper edge of the walls. A bowls of candies and nuts were on the coffee table. Beside the tree was a plastic trash bag with torn wrapping paper, ribbons and other debris of the morning gift slaughter. A few wrapped presents remained. Trent set down several additional gifts under the tree.

Quinn joined them and gave Lindy a brief hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, Quinn."

Helen turned. "Welcome. Trent, Lindy, Jane, please have a seat. It's so nice to have you over."

Jake waved his hand. "Great to see everyone. Come on over and dig in. None of those wimpy peanuts; we've got cashews out for everyone today."

A few more small greetings passed as everyone settled down to the sofas. Daria and Jane sat closest to the fireplace, Trent and Lindy opposite them, and Quinn moved to sit on the other side of Lindy. Helen and Jake took the middle section. Nobody spoke. Jake grabbed a handful of nuts and started to munch on them.

Helen was the first to break. "Well, Trent. How long have you and Lindy been an item?"

"Um, almost three months, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

"How nice. If you don't mind my asking, Lindy, how did you two meet?"

Quinn's eyes widened a little and Jane buried her face into Daria's shoulder to hide a giggle.

Lindy stiffened. _I don't think it would be a good idea to tell her I was passed out drunk next to the Tank. _"I…uh…met him after one of his band performances at McGrundy's. I had some…transportation problems, and Trent made sure I was safe."

Helen looked suspiciously at Lindy.

Quinn surreptitiously patted Lindy's arm. "Daria, why don't you tell Trent and Lindy about this Michael guy you've been seeing?"

Daria narrowed her eyes a small amount at Quinn, who responded with an innocent smile.

Lindy relaxed, leaned toward Quinn and whispered, "I owe you one."

Quinn whispered back, "I wouldn't wish one of Mom's interrogations on anybody."

Daria spoke plainly. "Michael is a very nice guy I met in one of my classes this fall."

When it was clear Daria wasn't going to proceed, Quinn waved her hand. "Hel-lo. We want details."

Daria gave Quinn a snide smirk. "We started dating after Thanksgiving."

More quiet. Quinn whispered again to Lindy, "Except Daria, when she gets like this." Quinn folded her arms. "Daria."

"He's an archeology major."

Another pause. "Ooohh."

"He wears glasses and has nice green eyes."

Quinn developed a predatory grin. "How do you know he has green eyes?"

"I can see through his glasses, and…um…you do get rather close to someone when you kiss."

"Daria, please, just tell them without being such a drama queen."

Daria smiled. "Well, Quinn. Since you said the magic word."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

Lindy whispered to Quinn. "Are you two normally like this?"

Quinn shrugged, and nodded.

Daria's face brightened. "He's very kind and sweet. We had time for a few dates before finals week, we saw a movie, a play, and went to one of the local galleries. Our last date was breakfast at the airport, when he gave me this necklace."

Lindy looked somewhat relieved.

Jane grinned. "I haven't seen her this ga-ga over a guy in…"

Daria glared at her.

Jane continued, "A long time."

"Jane, I will get even."

"Promise?"

Helen interjected. "Daria, I swear, there are times when you and Jane get as bad as you and Quinn."

Quinn and Jane shot stares at Helen.

Jake finished another mouthful of nuts. "These cashews are great, but why don't we get started on some real dinner?"

* * *

A couple hours later, dinner was finished with minimal carnage. Helen and Jake were in the kitchen cleaning up after chasing everyone else out to "go enjoy the evening."

Quinn and Lindy sat on one sofa section, with Lindy looking intrigued.

"So she's keeping up with racing?"

"Stacy has been so excited about it. Tiffany and I are going to see her on New Year's Day; you want to come with?"

"Oh hell, why not?"

Daria and Jane sat on the opposite sofa.

Trent leaned over the back. "I know you're happy now, but if that Michael ever hurts you, I'm..."

Jane pushed Trent's shoulder. "How sweet, what are you going to do, play _L.A. Woman_? That would send anybody running."

"Hey."

Daria turned toward Trent. "Thanks for the concern. But, I like to think I can take care of myself."

Jane snorted.

Daria pushed Jane. "Tell me again why I went to all that trouble to get you into BFAC?"

Jane leaned against Daria, rested her head on a shoulder, and looked up with puppy-dog eyes. "Because you miss me?"

* * *

Daria relaxed on the bed in 'her' room of the Morgendorffer home. She looked up at the crack-free ceiling as she talked on a cordless phone with her recent romantic interest, Michael Fulton. Michael sat at a kitchen chair in his parent's home. He idly spun the phone cord as he talked.

"Well, the neighbor finished putting up the last of the sandbags around his house this morning.

Daria smiled at the image. "Convinced the Y2K bug will bring about society's collapse, and he'll ride it out bunkered down in his house in a Detroit suburb."

"Or until he goes insane eating out-of-date MRE's"

"Still better than Dad's cooking."

Michael chuckled. "So, what are your plans for tonight's catastrophe?"

"Jane's brother's playing at one of the local music clubs, I'll be there. But then, after two sets, I may wish for complete socio-economic collapse. What about you?"

"An exciting night home watching TV."

"Um…Sorry."

"Don't be, I've never been much for going out like that. Besides, it wouldn't feel right without you."

Daria was silent for a moment. "Now you're making me feel bad for wanting to go tonight."

"You want to be with you friends, go. You can't help it that I have so little left here. The closest friend I had is in the Air Force and his training schedule didn't give him the time to get home for the holidays. You go and have fun, tell me about it when I see you next week."

"Deal. But I will be thinking about you."

"My sister is giving me dirty looks and eyeing the cutlery, I better get going."

"Tell her she'll have hell to pay if I don't get you back in one piece."

"Will do. Are you still driving up Monday with Jane?"

"That's the plan, get her moved into BFAC before spring semester."

"Guess I'll see you on Thursday when I fly back."

"I'll be waiting. Good-bye."

"Bye.

* * *

The banner over the Zon read:

**End of Civilization as We Know It: New Year's Eve 1999  
**Performances by: Alice's Restroom, Mystik Spiral, Dane Bramage, and Cold Stone Looney

Daria and Jane stood outside, looking up at the banner. Daria said, "Second billing; they're moving up in the world."

"Just means they suck less than the other two."

"Why aren't they at McGrundy's? That was their regular Friday night gig, last I heard."

"It still is, but Old Man McGrundy used his 'special event' clause for tonight, giving the band the chance to work here Friday and Saturday nights."

Jodie Landon's voice rose behind them. "I wouldn't go near my folks anytime soon if I were you."

Both turned to see Jodie and Mack MacKenzie standing behind them. Both looked happier than either Daria or Jane had ever seen them before.

Jodie said, "It's great to see you two."

Mack grinned. "It's nice to get all of us back together. We would have called earlier, but, you know, damage control."

Jane raised an eyebrow, Daria folded her arms. "Okay, what did we do this time?"

"My parents are blaming your bad influence on my low level of extracurricular activity at Turner."

Jane pumped her fist. "Yes!"

Daria eyed Mack. "We may have had a hand in it, but I don't think we can take all of the responsibility."

Jodie hugged Daria and Jane. "Oh, thank you!" She released the two shocked girls. "I can't tell you how much better and relaxed I feel. Between Mack's maneuvers to get my folks to let me go to Turner, and you helping to bust me out of activity prison, I feel like a real person instead of a Jodie doll."

Daria was still stunned. Jane bowed. "At your service. Sorry we didn't get a chance to see you two over Thanksgiving."

Mack said, "Good thing you didn't try. You would have been exposed to Andrew without prior warning, and we wouldn't have been there."

Daria raised both eyebrows. "Oh?"

Mack smiled. "We met in a little town halfway between Turner and Vance. We had a private Thanksgiving dinner at a nice restaurant, and a very relaxing vacation."

Jane smirked. "Relaxing?"

Jodie returned the smirk. "Very."

Daria looked at the front door. "Why are we still standing out here in the cold when we could be inside?"

Mack motioned the three women to proceed. "She has a point."

The bouncer checked identification on each and wrapped a bright yellow, plastic band around each one's wrist indicating under legal drinking age.

Inside was a wildly varied crowd of teens and young adults, from goths to grunge. All four removed their coats. Jodie quickly noticed Daria's necklace against her deep gold sweater and raised an eyebrow.

"This is, in total, only the second piece of jewelry I've ever seen you wear. What's the story?"

Jane slid her head between them. "Daria found a new male."

Daria pushed Jane's head back out of the way. "In not so crude of terms, it was a gift from someone I've been dating."

The four entered the crowd as Daria caught Jodie and Mack up on that subject, then all four in general caught up with each other's life over the previous four months.

They managed to swoop down like vultures on a table as it was freed. Mack was talking as they sat. "A fall free of football practice. Hallelujah! It felt good not to ride herd on a bunch of jocks. Speaking of which, Jane, did you have to deal with Kevin during your job as a teaching assistant?"

"Started out about the same, but since he's been as popular as me and Daria were, he's quieted down some. Quinn was roped into tutoring him; she's had to deal with him more than I have." Jane glanced at Daria.

Jodie and Mack gave Daria questioning looks. "From what I understand, Quinn slipped that she was helping Tiffany. Once my Mom heard that…"

Jodie had a squeamish look. "She hasn't mutilated him yet, has she?"

"Not yet. I'm surprised, and a little proud, to say that she helped him to pass the first trimester without by's. Straight D's, but still passed."

Jodie looked surprised. "Wow."

Jane smirked. "I wasn't. She'd been helping Tiffany in study hall since September. Kid has a lot of patience for teaching. Guess it runs in the family." Jane nodded toward Daria.

"I should maim you for that."

Mack slid back and looked around nervously, but maintained a thin grin. "Who are you, and what have you done with Daria?"

"It's me, Mack. Guess I've gotten a little soft in my old age. You've been a little quiet, Jodie. What have you been up to?"

"Compared to my old life, duller than dirt. School, homework, meals, Sick Sad World."

"From your greeting, I take it this agrees with you more?"

Jodie smiled. "Oh, yeah. I talk with Mack occasionally."

Mack gave her a hug. "At least every other day."

Jodie leaned against Mack. She looked at Daria and raised both eyebrows; then developed a wicked grin and motioned with her eyes toward Jane. "Jane, you've been very quiet on the subject. How's your love life been lately?"

Daria smirked at Jane. "Yeah. You've been very mysteriously quiet."

Jane stood her ground. "Hey, I've been working. No time for anything like that."

Jodie grinned and nodded. "Daria, you're going to be in the same town with her."

Daria raised on finger to her chin. "I do feel a certain obligation to my friend."

Jane looked between the two of them with mild fear in her eyes. Mack leaned back to watch the show.

Daria looked straight at Jane. "I guess it's up to me to find you a new boyfriend." Daria rubbed her hands together mischievously. "My turn to play matchmaker is going to be fun."

Jodie nodded. "I approve of this plan."

Jane dropped her head on the table with a loud thump. "I knew it was going to come back and bite me one day."

* * *

Lindy approached Daria, who was standing by the snack bar, grazing. "Daria, mind if I join you?"

"Uh, no."

"Thanks, I can maintain control better when I'm not alone."

"Hmm?"

"There's a lot of booze around."

"Oh."

Lindy held up her arm to show a yellow wrist band. "Getting one of these helps, but there is still plenty floating around unmonitored. Having someone to talk to keeps down the temptation."

"They gave you an under-age…you asked for it."

Lindy nodded.

"No offense, but why me?"

Lindy looked a little embarrassed. "I was hoping to get to know you better. People around here think a lot of you."

Daria joined Lindy in a mild blush. "It's all an exaggeration."

"Didn't you once tell Trent that it took a lot of guts to follow a dream, and that a lot of people never get that far?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you convince Jane to finish her portfolio for college and send it in?"

"Ah...yes."

"Keep your friend Jodie from being overworked last summer?"

"Yes."

"Haven't you quietly helped Quinn on numerous occasions?"

"Um…yes."

"I don't think it's an exaggeration, then."

Daria shook her head. "You're good."

"Thanks." Lindy's voice became quieter. "I was nervous about you, because of your former crush on Trent. He still thinks the world of you. I'm sorry to say, I was feeling a little jealous."

Daria looked somewhat concerned. "Lindy, Trent is like my brother, I once joked that he actually had twin little sisters. I've moved on…"

Lindy smiled. "I could tell by the way you talked about Michael. I felt a lot more secure after that."

"Oh."

"But you can understand why I was a little nervous."

"Sure. Much to my embarrassment, I understand jealousy."

"I also know that Trent doesn't give his trust easily. If he trusts you as much as he trusts Jane, I know I can too."

Daria smiled. She motioned to a couple of empty stools at a table. "If Trent thinks as much of you as it looks like, I should get to know you too. Tell me about yourself; all I've heard has been filtered through either Quinn or Jane. You know how twisted that can be."

* * *

As the noise level dropped down to the background din, Jane yelled from beneath a large clock that showed 12:02. "Dammit, civilization didn't collapse. Now I have to go to college."

Daria looked over from the table she and Lindy were sitting at. "Crap. That means I have to put up with both you and Karen in Boston."

Lindy developed a sly smile. "And, potentially, whatever flake Jane gets as a roommate."

Jane walked over after hearing Daria's voice. "That's where you wandered off to."

"Only making a few background checks."

Lindy nodded to Jane. "And hearing some interesting stories."

"Daria."

"No worse than you've been telling Lindy about me."

Jane shook her head. "That bad?"

Lindy put her hand on Jane's shoulder. "Afraid so."

Jodie and Mack approached. Jodie said, "We're going to be leaving. It's been great seeing the two of you tonight. Don't forget to keep in touch."

Mack smiled. "Good seeing both of you. Jane, I want copies of those pictures you took of Ms. Li when you handed over the honor society charter."

Daria smiled back. "Drive safe. Plenty of amateur drunks on the road this morning."

Jane waved. "Good night, you two. Hopefully we can continue to be a bad influence."

After Jodie and Mack departed, Jane turned back to Daria and Lindy. "Any other interesting conversations?"

Daria grinned. "Got a little more nice dirt on Quinn. And I think Trent made a good choice."

* * *

The blue Plymouth motored down I-95 a little slower than the traffic flow. Trent drove; Daria sat shotgun and Jane sat in between. The back seat was filled with luggage and art supplies.

Daria was still surprised that they had made their morning exit time. Getting two Lanes up and on the road by 9:00 AM was quite a shock, though she suspected Trent had just stayed up all night.

Daria looked at her watch, 11:00 AM, and smirked. Leaning over toward Jane, she said, "Houston, we have a problem."

"What's that?"

Daria held her watch directly in front of Jane. "Move-in day and Trent seems to be the only male around. And I told you before, I don't want pictures."

Jane slapped Daria on the arm. "Ewww."

Daria chuckled. "So much for mighty plans."

"I hate you."

Trent looked over. "You two are weird."

Jane glared at Daria. "More than you can imagine."

* * *

Trent stopped the car in front of Summerlin Hall, the single, large residence hall across the street from where the campus of Boston Fine Arts College filled a double city block.

Daria stepped out of the car to make room for Jane to exit. She yawned and stretched. Everyone wore heavy winter coats against the light snowfall. Daria said, "Granted, you're on the other side of the Mass Pike, but this is only about two miles away from Raft."

"Come on. I want to see my new abode. It is going to be strange to live in a different room. I've been in the same room in Lawndale all my life."

"If it's anything like mine, get used to something a lot smaller, too."

Trent popped open the trunk. "I'll start getting your stuff out. Meet you inside."

Jane spent about fifteen minutes checking in, showing identification, proof of acceptance, and finally getting issued keys to room 665.

Daria raised her eyebrows. "Neighbor of the beast?"

The tired-looking residence assistant said, "Before you ask, there is no room six, sixty-six. Six, sixty-five is the highest numbered room in the building. Probably a bad joke on the part of the architect. Take those elevators behind you to the sixth floor. Your room will be immediately to the left when you step off."

Jane, Daria and Trent all picked up luggage from the stack Trent had deposited and took the elevator up. Daria idly read the new residents instructions. After reaching the chosen floor and exiting, Daria glared at Jane.

"One bathroom per two rooms. I am so jealous. No walk down the hall to share one with thirty-two other people."

Jane chuckled. "Clean living, I guess."

Jane checked the door, finding it unlocked. She opened and said, "Hello."

A voice responded from inside. "If you're not my new roommate, get the hell out of here."

Inside was a young woman with dark blue hair that fell to mid-back, wearing black leather riding pants and a sleeveless grey, buttoned shirt, which hung loose. She pushed small, oblong glasses back into place and rose from the lower section bunk. The bunk beds were to the left far corner of the room. Two storage units were visible under the beds. A single window was in the far wall looking out over the BFAC campus across the street. Closets and dressers filled the left wall between the door and the beds. The right wall was divided in the middle by a door to the bathroom shared with the next room. On either side of the bathroom door were worktables built against the wall, each longer than a regular desk but with the space underneath open. The surfaces were streaked and spattered with a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. Shelves and cabinets covered the wall above each. A rolling chair sat in front of each.

The woman approached. "Hey, I'm CC, which of you two is my new victim?"

"Jane Lane." She extended her hand. "CC mean anything in particular, or were your parents feeling real lazy on the birth certificate?"

CC snorted and grinned. "Cecilia Czernicki." She shook Jane's hand. "Since you're the latecomer, you get the top bunk. I hate climbing. I left you half the closet space." She thumbed the unused section of closet. She nodded to the work area at the far end of the room. It was scattered with several in-progress drawings in silverpoint. "That workbench is mine. Touch anything; I'll break your fingers."

Jane tossed her bag into the closet. "This is Daria Morgendorffer. She attends Raft, so you'll probably see her around a lot, whether I like it or not. The tall one in back is my brother, Trent. Probably only see him if he's mooching crash space."

"Hey, you two."

Daria set her luggage down more carefully. "Hi, CC."

Trent followed and unloaded. "Hey."

CC dropped back onto her bed. "I'm easy to get along with, don't screw around with me, and I won't screw around with you."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, you're not my type."

A squeak came through the wall next to the beds. CC laughed. "Good one. You may survive after all." She pointed toward the walls. "The elevators. Noisy little buggers."

Jane looked dubiously at the wall. "Charming."

CC nodded. "Welcome to Purgatory."

* * *

Daria opened the door to the Plymouth and retrieved her two suitcases from the back. "Thanks for the ride up this time."

Trent walked around from the other side. "No problem."

"I'm going to unpack, then take the bus over to Jane. Help her get settled, and we'll take the bus back here to get her up to speed on the MBTA, Metro Boston Transportation Authority, schedules."

Trent gave Daria a hug. "Lindy told me you two spent a lot of time together Friday night."

"We did."

"I was hoping you two would get along. It took some time for Janey to warm up to her."

"I had my concerns, but things look good. You've done a lot for her."

"I try. I also want to thank you, for wanting to get to know her."

"Trent, she's important to you. How could I say no?"

"Daria, it's been over two…a long time since I felt like this about someone. I want to make this work"

"I'm glad you found someone. Like Jane said to me, happiness looks good on you."

"Yeah. Look, I probably should get going, long drive back."

"Better. Drive safe."

Trent crawled into the car. "Bye, Daria."

"Bye." Daria waved as he drove away.

Daria picked up luggage and hurried inside to escape the cold. She idly thought back to two years earlier as she rode the elevator up to the third floor. _Junior year. Jane dating Tom. Me feeling jealous, then that damn parade. Don't go there. Trent was dating…I don't remember him dating anyone around that time._ Daria shook her head as she stepped off the elevator and walked to her room. _Who would have thought him for unrequited love? I wonder…_

Daria stopped with the key in the door. _No._

* * *

Thanks to Ranger Thorne, Mahna Mahna, Isa Yo-Jo, Kristen Bealer, qwerty, Lawndale Stalker, and Decelaraptor at PPMB for comments, suggestions and support.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Robert Nowall for beta reading.

August 2004  
Revised January 2005


	10. Chosin Fate

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the tenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Chosin Fate**

Daria Morgendorffer climbed the steps to Nevis Hall at Raft University, and her second class of the day, U. S. History from 1876. With insufficient time since her first class, Beginning Archery to reach her dorm, and not wanting to carry a bulky change of clothes, she'd just thrown a heavy jacket over her sweats for the trek across the snow-covered campus. The cold January wind that passed through the sweat pants told her to add a second pair in the future.

Daria noted that Dr. Miller was teaching, the same professor she had for the first half of U. S. History the previous fall. He'd completed writing the class basics on the whiteboard and was writing in a separate column to one side.

_**Help wanted:  
**__**Reliable word processor/transcriptionist  
**__**10 hours per week  
**__**9 per hour  
**__**See me after class**_

Daria found a seat in the auditorium and settled in with a fresh notebook and a microcassette recorder in front of her. The class was the usual first session of the semester: make sure students are in the right class, hand out and go over syllabus, somebody asks stupid questions about grading, make sure everyone is buying the correct textbook, and finally, maybe ten minutes of real teaching. After class, Daria hesitated a few minutes while students cleared away. She idly thought. _I'm typing at eighty words per minute, could be an easy way to pick up a little buffer money for renting an apartment this summer. _She walked up to Dr. Miller. "What kind of transcription are you looking for?"

"Daria, I was hoping someone like you would apply. I have a set of recovered recordings of the old SBC radio reporter, James Simon. They're from the Korean War and could be useful in a book I'm working on."

"Sounds kind of interesting, but why somebody 'like' me?"

He smiled. "You turn in papers that are readable, and faculty talk. You have a developing reputation for quality work."

"Ah…Thanks."

Dr. Miller started toward the door. "I'm on my way to the office; you can stop by and fill out a student employment form there."

"Can I stop by later? I'm meeting someone for lunch."

"I'll be in or around my office until three. You can pick up the form from the department secretary and drop it in my mailbox if I'm not there."

* * *

Daria crossed campus to her dorm room and changed to wool pants and a dark green pullover shirt. Both were a little loose, but not baggy. She wore a single malachite pendant over the shirt. She quickly opened the door in response to a knock. 

Michael Fulton walked in with a carry-out bag of Thai food. "Nice to know we're being watched. Checking in at the RA desk is a real pain." He draped his camouflage jacket on a chair back.

"I'd have to do the same thing at your dorm."

"True, but this is such a nicer place for lunch." He set the food down on top of Daria's dresser and started to remove the containers.

Daria gave him a hug as he finished dividing the lunches. Michael returned the gesture, kissing the top of her head. He looked around the room, from the piece of grey fabric padding attached to plywood resting on the work desk, the Kafka poster, anatomical models on the shelves over the desk, to the poster of the half exhumed skeleton on the wall above the bed. The other side of the room was much simpler. A single poster was beside Daria's roommate Karen's bed, a horse at full gallop. On the desk was a framed photo of Karen, brother, and parents. A small boom box occupied part of the dresser top.

Daria pointed to the pot among the array of small appliances on her dresser. "Coffee's ready."

"Smells good."

"Thanks for picking up lunch. One of these days I'll have to return the favor."

"Well, you can pick up the tab, but I really think we'll be better off if we eat here."

"Oh?"

"With my roommate, just believe me that it is not safe to bring any foodstuffs into the room. Providing you can get past the shoes I make him leave in the hall."

"It can't be that bad."

"No, it's worse."

Daria looked dubious.

"There is stuff growing on the dark side of my room that's banned by several strategic weapon treaties." He wandered next to the bed to examine the skeleton poster. "Big archeological print right next to the bed. Trying to get me excited or something?"

Daria blushed. "No! I've had that poster for years, that's the only place it would fit. I'm not trying to give you any ideas."

"Whoa. Sorry, only making a little joke."

Daria still looked uncomfortable. "Good."

Michael walked back too her. "I'm sorry, that was in very bad taste. I promise I won't do anything like that again."

Daria relaxed some. "Okay."

He pulled the second chair over. "Why don't we try our lunch? I got mild for you so you can get an idea of their spice level. Their traditional spicing is definitely an acquired taste."

"Thanks." Daria sat and started to nibble.

They ate in silence for a couple minutes. Michael hazarded to speak. "I just screwed up big-time, didn't I?"

Daria sighed deeply. "Not that big. I'm nowhere near ready for something like that. It startled me."

Michael nodded. "I should have known better. If push comes to shove, I doubt if I'm ready either."

Daria raised both eyebrows.

It was Michael's turn to be nervous. "Please don't take this as too cold or impersonal, and it says nothing against you. A cost/benefit analysis says no. The potential damage to my, or your, future is too great, even if the risks are minimized as much as possible."

Daria sat silent for a moment. "So, you have thought about it."

Michael blushed. "I…uh…ulp."

Daria developed tiny smile. "I take it, then, you don't carry protection in your wallet."

He shook his head. "I know some guys do that, but I've never figured it out. You sit on your wallet several hours a day and move around, everything inside get crushed and abraded. I'll wear out an ATM card in a year. Can't see the thin rubber in one of those things holding up for too long."

Daria's eyes widened.

"You okay?"

Daria released her held breath and rubbed her eyes. "Okay, we are going to change the subject now. We are not going to revisit it for a long time."

* * *

Two days later, Dr. Miller stopped Daria as she left class. "The transcription job is yours if you want it." 

Daria turned. "That was quick."

"I didn't see a need to drag things out; it is unlikely I'll find someone else with your typing speed, vocabulary, and…strong stomach."

Daria raised her eyebrows.

"Remember the description? These are unedited interviews with combat troops. Some of the material will be unpleasant."

"Oh."

"Well?"

"I'll take the job."

"Can you start today?"

"I get out of Education Techniques at two-thirty."

"How about three to five?"

"You have an employee."

* * *

At 3:00 PM, Dr. Miller showed Daria to her work station, just outside his office. "Space is a little tight around here. The broadcast company transferred the original reel to reel recordings to CD. It will run through the computer media player. That way you can easily note the track number and time stamp of any point in the recording for future reference, if needed. The player is operated with this foot controller." He demonstrated how to start, pause, stop, fast forward and reverse with the unit. 

Daria watched. "Nice touch."

"I've set the word processor preferences on this computer to save files to the proper directory. Just use the CD title as the document filename."

"Got it."

He showed her a large CD file next to the desk. "I've got about two hundred hours of interviews to be transcribed."

"Looks like job security."

Daria sat at the computer and logged on through her student identity and password. She started the word processor and clicked save. After she picked up the first CD, she typed the title as the filename, and finished the save. She then placed the CD into the player tray and closed it. Seconds later, she was typing away.

* * *

Later that Thursday evening, Daria sat on her bed, reading. Daria's high school friend, Jane Lane, sat cross-legged on the floor as she sketched Daria's roommate, Karen, working at her computer. In Daria's hands was one of Mrs. Blaine's diaries, a volume marked '1950'. Daria and Mrs. Blaine had developed a friendship during Daria's high school volunteer reading sessions at the retirement home Mrs. Blaine had lived in. The many volumes had been willed to Daria the previous summer after Mrs. Blaine's passing. 

_**July 4**_

**_Independence Day was subdued. American soldiers are once again going to war. Less than five years after VJ day, and the world still hasn't learned. I fear for them_._ Korea. I had to find the place on the globe. Right next to China. I hope they don't get involved too._**

Karen's loud voice filled the room. "You filthy, scum-sucking sack of rancid porcine afterbirth!"

Jane's eyes opened wide at the outburst. Daria leaned over. "She's only mildly annoyed at the computer now; wait 'til she really gets ticked off."

Jane looked at the book. "How's that going?"

"Interesting, and kind of eerie. Reading words written at the time, and now hearing others talk from the same time, puts the whole thing in a different light."

"Still can't believe you took a real job without any arm twisting."

"I liked to think making sure I could get an apartment this summer was sufficient arm twisting."

"Only you would twist your own arm."

"Like I'm going to let one of you two do it? You'd have too much fun. Anyway, how's life in the big art college treating you?"

"Glad I learned to sleep with Mystik Spiral practicing, or that damn squeak from the elevator on the other side of the wall would drive me nuts. I'm liking not having to be in school thirty-five hours per week anymore."

"How's your roommate working out?"

"Not too bad. When I actually see her, we mainly just stay out of each other's way. She's an odd one, kind of like some of the art colony residents, if they turned half-psycho."

"She did seem a little high strung."

"I'm thinking about trying to set her up with Max when the band drops by."

Daria looked dubiously at Jane.

Another loud string of language exploded from the far end of the room. Karen described, in graphic language, the computer's interspecies parentage, unorthodox sexual habits, and several bovine internal organs.

Jane stared at Karen. "Wow. I didn't know it was possible to describe…anything in such…colorful terms."

Karen turned and looked a little embarrassed. "Oops. Sorry. It just gets so frustrating at times."

Daria placed the book inside a large trunk and locked it shut. "You're getting a time-out." Daria grabbed her wallet. "Pizza."

Jane flipped her sketchbook closed. "I'm in."

Karen nodded. "You better be buying."

* * *

Daria settled into a work schedule of two hours per day. It wasn't a heavy work load and the work was mostly interesting. She got a first-hand experience with the reporting process. Some of the stories were fascinating, others horrifying. On this Wednesday, she'd started a disk marked "Troopship off Inchon, 1st Mar. Div. 14 Sept. 1950". 

Half an hour into the recording Daria was startled when she heard what sounded like her father's voice.

"**Oh, hi. Sure, I guess I can talk to you. Not like they'd let us corporals know anything important." The following laugh also sounded like her father's.**

**Mr. Simon asked, "Well, let's start with your name."**

"**Corporal Nathan W. Morgendorffer."**

Daria's hands froze on the keyboard.

"**Cpl. Morgendorffer, tell us a little about yourself."**

"**Well…I…married my sweetheart, Ruth, right out of high school, and was drafted a little over three years ago. Got two sons. Bruce is two years old, Jacob is eight months."**

Daria fell back in the chair, face fading to white.

"**You don't sound like the typical marine."**

"**I guess not. But, not everyone needs to act like that, the important thing is to be reliable and work together. I'm the loader on a fifty team. I don't need to be as aggressive, just make sure the ammo keeps feeding."**

"**How are you feeling about going ashore soon?"**

"**Scared to death. Don't let them tell you otherwise, most of us are. Except a few of the old timers who'd made through landings like Saipan or Iwo."**

"**Any messages to send back home?"**

"**Can I say something to my family?"**

"**Go ahead, son."**

"**Ruth, I love you. I promise to take care of myself and get back to you. Bruce, Jacob, I love you. Damn, I hate being not being able to see them I miss all of you."**

"Daria?"

She continued to listen.

"Daria?" Dr. Miller's voice registered and she jumped. Her foot kicked the stop control.

"Oh, sorry, you startled me."

"Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Daria looked at the beginning of the transcription, then at Dr. Miller. "I heard one."

* * *

Daria and Michael sat at a table in the Raft Student Union, coffee in front of each. Michael watched the continued, far-away look in Daria's eyes with concern. He waved a hand in front of her. 

"Earth calling Daria."

Daria blinked. "Sorry."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Daria started to shake her head, but sighed and gave him a slight smile. "Heard something in one of the recordings today that got to me."

"It must have been something brutal to affect you like this."

"It was my grandfather's voice."

Michael tilted his head. "Was it something he said?"

"I've never heard it before. He died four years before I was born."

"Oh, guess that would feel strange."

"He didn't sound like I expected him to. He sounded like…Dad."

Michael shifted his eyes in confusion. "You were surprised he sounded like your father?"

Daria slid down in her seat an inch. "My father always made him sound like a barking, sadistic bastard. I always imagined it to be a growling voice full of hate. What I heard was a kind of normal guy, who loved his family and wanted to get back to them. He wasn't the gung-ho bloodthirsty maverick I'd heard about. He was scared to go into battle. He wasn't the man who sent my father to military school and told him to stay there during Christmas. The two versions don't add up."

"Something must have happened to him."

Daria nodded. "That must be it. Some of the recordings I've heard are scary; no wonder they were never broadcast at the time. But I also keep thinking about what things would have been like if that man I heard today was the one my father knew. What could have happened to make him the man my father still dreads?"

* * *

Just before quitting time the next day, Daria looked around the corner of the door frame to Dr. Miller's office. "Can I ask a couple of favors?" 

"You can ask."

"Can I make a copy of my grandfather's interview?"

"I don't see a problem."

"Do you mind if I stay late on my own time? Mr. Simon often tried to do follow-up interviews on his subjects; I'd like to try searching for more on my grandfather."

Dr. Miller thought a moment before shrugging. "Go ahead. I'll let them know in the front office that you'll be in here. Make sure you pull the door closed when you leave, otherwise it won't lock. Good luck."

Daria searched the stored CD's chronologically forward until she found a candidate. It was marked "Hospital ship. 1st Mar. Div. Dec 16, 1950." Daria loaded the CD and began the playback, skipping forward at intervals and stopping to see if she, by chance, could catch the voice again. After going through over an hour of material, she heard a voice that sounded familiar, but changed.

"**Filthy Chi-Com bastards wouldn't try that trick again. Just as a warning, I put bayonets on two of their rifles, jabbed 'em through the leader's back and propped him up, facing toward the reservoir."**

Daria stopped the recording in shock. It sounded like Jake's ranting, injected with pure hatred. She reversed the playback several times to find the start of the interview.

**Mr. Simon narrated. "I'm with another of the young marines I interviewed before the Inchon landings four months ago, Corporal, now Sergeant, Nathan Morgendorffer. Or, as some of the other marines call him, Mad Dog Morgendorffer."**

Daria paused the recording and took a drink from the water bottle on the table. She steeled herself and restarted the recording.

"**Yeah, I remember you. Whole damn different world out there now. We need every good marine we can get out there, and the stupid pencil-pushers are sending me home."**

"**You look pretty banged up. A lot of guys would be happy to be heading home."**

"**Well, those prissy little bastards can run if they want. I want to go back, and they won't let me."**

"**What kind of injuries do you have that prevents your return to duty?"**

"**That's what pisses me off so much. Four stinkin' rifle slugs through me and they're not a problem. No, I lost half my left foot to damned frostbite. That's what's sending me home." **

"**Those are some nasty-looking stitches on your neck, what happened there?"**

"**Ever try to shave with a straight razor when everything in your body was numb? Dammit, almost slashed my throat clean open before I even felt it. Then one of those lame-brained doctors at the aid station tried to get me psychiatric treatment for trying to kill myself. He might be eating solid food by now."**

"**Oh…yes. Could you tell us about some of your experiences at Inchon?"**

"**That was by the numbers. Donaldson and me would set up the fifty, provide cover and support fire for the platoon. Once they secured that objective, we'd pack up and move to the next. More fire support, move on. Whole operation went like that for us. Inchon broke the North Korean's backs."**

"**Care to talk about your more recent experiences?"**

"**Why not. Maybe someone back home can hear about these cock-ups and hang someone from a meat hook for it. We were pulled back for refit, then the powers-that-be horsed around with this and that before finally putting us back in the field in late November around the Chosin Reservoir. That's where the crap hit the fan. We were ordered to attack up the basin to relieve pressure on troops to the west. Ran smack into the middle of the Chi-Com army coming down for their big offensive. They had us surrounded within a day. Word came down the line we were outnumbered better than ten to one. We didn't have enough decent cold weather gear for a squad, let alone the division. Weather reports said we had temperatures of thirty-five below zero out there. We had to fight our way back out of that god-forsaken trap."**

"**The First Marines are already being recognized for their courage."**

"**Yeah, courage to get our asses out of the trap those idiots on high sent us into. We learned to rely on ourselves; nobody was going to save our butts out there. We crawled and scratched our way back to Hungnam. Taking our wounded and dead with us every step of the way."**

"**I understand that was when you were promoted."**

"**Field promo. Only corporal left alive in the squad after the Sarge took a bayonet through the lungs. I didn't think modern armies did that much hand-to-hand combat any more. We'd been doing it off and on for a week by then. Donaldson took a load of shrapnel the same time, blinding him. We picked everyone up and kept marching."**

"**What about this name, Mad Dog, that you picked up?"**

"**Grrr. My squad started calling me that. Don't ask any of these idiots; they'll only give you one of the bullcrap versions floating around that make me into some kind of one-man marine regiment. We were leaving a small hilltop after covering the platoon withdrawal. Burned out the last barrel on the fifty that night to keep 'em back. Only five of us were still on our feet. I had the rest carry the three wounded while I took point. We had a Chi-Com patrol blocking our escape. I was cold and just plain tired; wanted to get back and get my men taken care of. I cut loose with a Thompson and marched toward 'em. Caught 'em by surprise and the whole squad went down by the end of the mag. Once we got up to them, we found they had a bunch of gear looted from the Seventh Infantry. That stinkin' pissed me off. I dumped a second clip into the bodies, just to make sure they were all dead. Filthy Chi-Com bastards wouldn't try that trick again. Just as a warning, I put bayonets on two of their rifles, jabbed 'em through the leader's back and propped him up, facing toward the reservoir. We made sure we collected all the personal gear they'd looted. Hope Graves Registration can get them where they belong."**

"**Uh…that was…quite a story."**

"**That's when the corpsman told me to sit down while he bandaged my leg. First slug I took. That was the story all the way back. Cover, rear-guard, fall back. Bring everyone with us."**

"**Didn't you get that leg taken care of then?"**

"**Had the corpsman stitch it up. Didn't have time for anything else."**

"**What about the rest?"**

"**Does it really matter? I got popped here and there. Another in the leg, one sliced my boot open. Probably why I got frostbit. Took one in the arm. If you could get patched up and carry a weapon, you stayed on the line. It was all just one frozen stint in hell. I don't remember which was worse, guard duty at night, or trying to sleep at night. We were constantly being hit by infiltrators. Kind of like up close and personal snipers. Sneak in, kill a guard or a sleeper, and creep back out. Or just being cold. Every day, every night. That damn cold."**

"**A lot of people will probably think you are heroes."**

"**Big frickin' deal. I'd rather they patch me up and put me back on the line were I'm needed than think wonderful things about me. The Chinese are just rolling right back down the peninsula. Looks like we could lose everything we gained in the last few months. These people have to be stopped, and stopped here. We've lost too many good men. Do it for them."**

"**What about your family, do you look forward to seeing them?"**

"**Only damn thing to look forward to in going stateside. I have two sons I can raise right. Make damn good soldiers out of them before they're needed. Make 'em the kind of men to come out to these hellholes and do the work that needs to be done. Raise them to be tough, to do things right. They may not let me keep up the fight. But, I'll do everything I can to make sure my sons can."**

"**Moving on to the next marine."**

Daria stopped the playback and stared at the screensaver pattern bouncing across the monitor.

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, staring at the telephone. She breathed deeply several times to calm her nerves. She quickly punched in her phone card code, and then consulted her address book for a phone number. 

Ruth Morgendorffer quietly sat in her small, neat Virginia home. She set down the thin romance novel she was reading and turned on the television. Just as she was watching the local weather forecast, the telephone rang. She reached over to the far side of the table next to her chair and answered. "Hello."

Daria was relieved and shaken to get a pickup. "Hi, Grandma Ruth? It's Daria."

"Daria?"

"Your granddaughter."

"Oh, I know who you are; I was merely surprised to hear from you. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Grandma. I was wondering. Could I talk to you some about Grandpa?"

"Oh. I suppose so. I'm a little surprised, you've never really asked about him before."

"Well, I've been working for one of the history professors and came upon something. Did you know he was interviewed on the radio by SBC when he was over in Korea?"

"Oh, Daria! That was so long ago, but I still remember it. I remember him saying how much he missed me and the boys. How did you know?"

"I've been transcribing interviews and found it."

"That's wonderful. Would it be possible to get a copy for me?"

"Sure Grandma. But…did you know he was interviewed a second time?"

"No."

"That's why I'm calling. Grandpa almost sounded like Dad in the first interview. In the second, he was very different. More like the way Dad describes Grandpa."

Ruth's voice became quieter. "Nathan was changed over there. He didn't come back the man that left."

"I could tell by the interview. Grandma, some of what happened to him was very frightening. Did he ever tell you about anything?"

"No. He refused to talk about it. But I knew bad things happened to him. He always slept with a pistol after that. He'd wake up screaming some nights. He could never shave himself; he always went to the barber."

Daria blanched a little at remembering the interview.

Ruth's voice saddened further. "I wish he'd tried with the psychologists when he came back. They made him go while he was learning to walk on the prosthesis. Maybe it could have helped him. He thought it was all a waste of time and wouldn't budge."

"Maybe." _A lifetime of untreated Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; that explains a lot. _"I'll be honest; there are some very disturbing things in the interview." Daria paused. "But, I feel I should offer. Do you want to hear a copy?"

Ruth was silent for a while. Finally, she quietly said, "No. It's bad enough that I lost the man that went there. After this long, knowing the details won't help any. That's why I told that one man to go away all those years ago."

"What man?"

"Blind man. I forgot his name. Said Nathan and him were the only two members of their squad to survive the fighting that sent Nathan home. I told him that Nathan was gone, and I didn't want to know about what had happened to the two of them back then."

"Oh. Um, thanks Grandma. I know this probably wasn't easy for you, but I think I understand Grandpa a little more now. I'm sorry if this has upset you."

"Some. It's good you wanted to know about Nathan. I didn't marry a bad man."

"I know, Grandma."

Ruth began to cry. "The real Nathan died out there."

Daria sat in stunned silence for a few moments. She quietly spoke. "Yes."

"I've never…been able to talk to anyone about this. At last, somebody does understand what happened."

"I understand the facts. I won't pretend to understand what you have felt."

"I hope you never do."

"Sometime, I'd like you to tell me about him. Before he went away."

"Daria, I'd love to tell you."

"Are you going to be all right? This has been a lot to surprise you with."

"It'll be a little rough, but I'll make it. You knowing will help."

"Okay, Grandma. Good night."

"Night, dear."

* * *

Daria pressed down the cradle and released. She dialed again. 

At the Morgendorffer house, Quinn yelled, "I'll get it." She quickly jogged from the living room to the kitchen to answer the phone. "Hello."

"Hey, Quinn."

"Daria. So brings you to the phone tonight? No hot date with Michael?"

Daria blushed. "Not tonight. I worked a little late."

"Too bad."

"Actually, can you put Dad on?"

"Daria, you can't need money already!"

Jake jumped up in the living room. "What! Do I look like I'm made of money?"

Daria shook her head. "Quinn, tell Dad I'm not broke. But, I want to talk to him."

Quinn placed a hand over the phone. "Dad, Daria wants to talk to you. Says she's not broke. Though she might be pregnant."

"What!" Jake sprinted to the phone. Quinn handed it over with a smirk and quickly headed for her room.

"Daria! How are you holding up? We're here for you, whatever you need."

"Dad? What are you…what did Quinn just tell you?"

"God Daria, we never expected you to get pregnant."

Daria rolled her eyes. _I don't need this now._ "Dad, Quinn was pulling your leg. I am most certainly not pregnant."

Jake slumped down into one of the kitchen chairs. "What a relief."

"Did you get your birthday present?"

"Oh, yeah!. Thank you. Those letterhead and business card templates for my word processor have been great. Really 'wow' my clients with them. Plus you're saving me a bundle in printing costs."

"Glad you liked them. Um…Dad, can I talk to you some about Grandpa Nathan?"

"What do you want to know about that black-hearted bastard?"

"Did Mom tell you about my new job?"

"Typing for one of your history teachers. Sure."

"Well, it's a bit more than that. I'm working with a bunch of old radio interviews from the Korean War, and…I found two with Grandpa."

"Boasting about how great a soldier he was, I bet."

"Not exactly. Dad, he does talk about some of what happened in one interview, but it…wasn't boasting. The other, he talks about Grandma Ruth, Uncle Bruce and you."

"Probably talking about his plans to make real men out of us."

"Well, eventually."

"Like that's news."

Daria sighed. "Dad, I think you need to hear these."

"Why, so I can hear how I screwed up being born?"

"Dad, no. Grandma and Grandpa didn't talk about this to you much, if at all."

"Oh, he talked about it. Told me it would make a real man out of me. Told me how I had to be tough and ready to fight. I know all about it." As he spoke, Jake's voice rose to a scream.

"Dad, please. This is something they didn't tell you."

"Keeping secrets, that doesn't surprise me."

"Dad, in a way, he was right. Korea made the man you knew. But, I think you need to hear what made him, and the man he was before."

"I don't believe this! You too?"

"No, Dad. Not that. This doesn't make what he did to you right. Not by a long shot. It might help you though."

"How?"

"By learning what made him. His mind was as much, if not more, of a casualty as his body."

"Huh?"

"Dad. What he experienced changed him. Mentally, he needed to be a certain way to survive. Somehow, that mind-set stayed with him."

"Oh."

"Dad, I'm going to send you the recordings. Please hear them. And call me if you need to talk."

"Daria, I trust you. I will."

"Dad, this also made me realize…I haven't…said this lately. I love you."

Jake sat quietly. "I love you. I'll listen."

* * *

Jake's hand lightly quivered as he set the CD into the player. He sat on the nearby sofa end and put earphones on. With a quick jab, he hit the play button on the remote and listened. Several times, he stopped and reversed the CD to replay sections of the interviews. His reactions varied from surprise, shock, disbelief, and finally, great sadness. 

Quinn came in from work tired and ready for a light dinner. She saw her father sitting in the living room, intently listening. Curious, she went to him and did a double-take when she saw the tear on his cheek.

"Daddy?"

Jake jumped in surprise. He unplugged the earphones, reversed the CD to a spot he'd already learned, and hit play.

Nathan's voice came from the speakers. "Ruth, I love you. I promise to take care of myself and get back to you. Bruce, Jacob, I love you. Damn, I hate being not being able to see them. I miss all of you."

Jake looked at Quinn. "That's the first time I heard my father say he loved me."

* * *

Notes: 

About 12,000 men of the U. S. Marine First Division, Regimental Combat Teams of the U. S. Army Seventh Infantry Division, along with elements of the Republic of Korea and Australian Armies, advanced toward the Chosin (Changjin) Reservoir. On the night of Nov. 27, 1950 the Chinese Ninth Army group, comprised of approximately ten times the troops, surrounded them. For the next two weeks, until Dec 11, 1950, the "Chosin Few" fought what is generally considered the most difficult and arduous combat in U. S. history as they made their way out of the trap.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, SteveBlumDeckler, Isa Yo-Jo, DJW, The Angst Guy, Lawndale Stalker, Parker-man, gearhead, Mike Nassour, and Steven Galloway at PPMB for comments and suggestions.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Steven Galloway for beta reading.

August 2004  
Revised February 2005


	11. Art Frieze

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the eleventh story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Art Frieze**

Nasal, off-key, female singing filtered into Jane Lane's ears one fine Monday in January as she lay in the top bunk of her dorm room in Summerlin Hall, Boston Fine Arts College.

"_Gold is for the mistress, silver for the maid,  
__Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade."  
_"_Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,  
_"_But Iron, Cold Iron, is master of them all."_

She pulled the pillow over her obsidian-haired head and groaned through the narrow gap between it and the mattress. "Congratulations, CC. That's scarier than hearing my brother sing first thing in the morning."

Jane's new roommate, CC, stopped singing and grinned at Jane. "Flattery is always encouraged." The young woman returned to combing her dark blue hair and humming the same tune. She wore a long, light grey nightshirt airbrushed with scenes that looked like they had been pulled from a half-dozen fantasy paperbacks.

Jane tossed the pillow against the wall and squinted at the alarm clock on the shelf just above her head. "Eight – ten. Ugh. Glad I only have to walk across the street for class." Half-rolling, she moved her lower body and legs to dangle off the side of the bed, before beginning a slow slide to the floor. Jane's dark maroon shirt pulled partway up her torso from the black shorts she wore. With a zombie-like shuffle, she made her way to the bathroom shared with the residents of the next room.

CC called to Jane, "Be careful, I think The Terror is in there."

"Happy, happy, joy, joy." Jane mumbled as a dense cloud of steam rolled out of the open door, accompanied with a lavender smell so heavy it was almost palpable.

Toweling off next to the shower was a medium height woman with short blond hair. Mary Kelsey waved. "Good morning, Jane."

Jane opened a single eye fully to face the one human on earth that owned and used more beauty products than the entire Former Fashion Club of Lawndale, combined. From the looks of the counter-top, she had most of it with her. Jane responded with "Uh, 'orning Mary," as she closed the toilet stall. She covered her face with toilet paper to cut down the stench of lavender.

The room was little larger than a common residential unit: one shower stall, one toilet stall and a sink/counter combination, in a long, narrow room. Doors in the middle of each long wall led directly to the adjoining rooms. Stalls to one side of the door divide, sink and counter to the other. Apparently, the architect decided adjacent rooms sharing a smaller bathroom would give a more home-like feel to the dorm.

Mary was blow-drying her hair as Jane emerged. Jane reluctantly made her way to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth. She worked as quickly as possible to extricate herself from the room before the lavender-induced nausea become overwhelming. Jane made a break back to her room and closed the door. Breathing deeply of fresher air, Jane wondered aloud, "What color is the sky on her planet?"

CC finished buttoning her jeans and tucked in a dark brown pullover shirt. "Willing to bet…it's purple."

Jane smirked and started digging through her clothes. Ten minutes later, she emerged from room 665 wearing a red, hooded sweatshirt and dark grey pants. Her well worn backpack was over her shoulder as she moved to the nearby elevator. Jane stepped in just as Mary's roommate, Nell Girard, came around the corner. Jane held a hand over the door sensor while the brunette girl carefully walked up using elbow crutches.

"Close one. Thanks, Jane."

"Nell. Escaping to fresh air?"

Nell rested against the wall of the elevator car as it headed down. "I'm convinced she doesn't use oxygen."

"Bad enough sharing the bathroom with her. You must be in agony."

"Some, but I look at it this way: at least she bathes."

"Nell, I'd rather smell my brother's week-old socks than those perfumes of hers."

"But, could you image those perfumes trying to cover up your brother's week-old socks?"

Jane looked queasy. "Nell, I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Sorry."

The elevator doors opened and the two young women worked their way to the dorm cafeteria.

Jane grabbed an extra tray as Nell followed her. "Nothing but the finest institutional food."

Nell smiled. "Had worse."

Jane nodded. "Much worse."

The two worked through the line, each swiping a school-issued meal card at the register. Jane balanced both trays as they made their way to an empty table.

Nell said, "Might as well join me. I don't bite."

Jane sat down and placed trays on the table. "Are you sure?"

"I don't bite anything that isn't cooked at least medium-well."

"So I'm a little too rare for your taste?"

Nell smiled again. "Okay, I give."

Jane began to eat and pulled out her English Composition I textbook to read. She sighed as she thought of the coming day. Following English, she had College Mathematics and Life Science. _Three of five classes with nothing to do with art. Three of five days of the week with no art classes. A least Tuesday and Thursday are a little better. Art History I is interesting, and Beginning Sculpture is real art._

Nell pulled out a notebook and began to rewrite sloppily written notes.

Jane set the book down. "Come to an arts college, and hardly get to do any art. Not quite what I had in mind. Did you get as frustrated, your first semester?"

Nell looked up. "That doesn't even start to describe it. They hit you hard first semester so you can focus on the General Ed stuff without getting distracted by your art. You're kind of lucky to start in spring; you can play in the Boston Ice Tea Party if you want to work off some creativity."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Ice Tea Party?"

Nell grinned. "One of the great art competitions around here. The rules are simple: you have to produce an ice sculpture for judging. Any size, format or style."

Jane glared warily. "Where's the ice tea come in?"

"Oh, yeah. You have to use frozen tea for the ice."

Jane grinned. "Please tell me you're not kidding."

"I'm not. Ice sculptures out of frozen tea. The contest is the last weekend of January. Gives you a little under a week to come up with an idea. You have to register this week; can't start until Saturday. Prize is a thousand bucks."

"Jane grinned wider. "I'm in."

* * *

Saturday morning, Karen Myerson reclined on her bed and glanced over at Daria Morgendorffer, doing the same in a bed across their dorm room at Raft University. "Why is she here again?"

"They won't even let students have a coffee machine in her dorm," Daria replied.

"But we're going to have enough tea to float the hall."

"Or enough to keep us awake for weeks."

Jane looked over from near Daria's dresser top. The usual array of small appliances was pushed aside, leaving only the coffee machine making hot water, and a one-cup immersion heater doing the same. Scattered across the rest of the surface were clear plastic cups containing tea, each with a small label attached. Boxes containing different types of tea were also scattered around the countertop, plus a healthy number of spent bags in the trash. "Don't let anyone fool you. Art requires work."

Daria shook her head. "Looking for a job as a mad English maid?"

"Funny, Morgendorffer. I'm freezing them, trying to get an ice that looks exactly like amber."

Karen looked up. "Going to put bugs in it?"

"The old panels in St. Petersburg didn't, but, it could add a little interesting spice." Jane developed a shifty-looking smile. "I'm sure you can find some cool looking bugs at the zoo."

Daria peered curiously at Jane. "You're not."

Jane smirked back. "Try me."

Karen looked between the two. "Glad to be of service. I'm sure I can find a few interesting things at work. The insectary usually has some nifty stuff."

Daria cringed. "Amber-like panels, with bugs, and Austrian royal motifs. You are so sick, I'm glad to call you friend."

Karen looked confused. "Yeah, yeah, your roomie's an art moron. Besides the bugs, what the hell are you two going on about?"

Jane rubbed her hands together. "The Amber Room."

Silence. Karen raised her hands in supplication. "This tells me?"

Daria turned to Karen. "The Czarist palace in St. Petersburg had a room decorated with amber friezes. The original disappeared during the German occupation in World War Two. Though, Jane clearly doesn't have time to do the whole thing, and I'm sure she will add her own particular slant to the project."

"Well, more of a concept piece off the original idea. I'm aiming for a small corner of panels, with more Lane royal family motifs."

Karen pulled herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed. "How are you going to freeze it? There has to be a bunch of people entering, where do they have room?"

"It's winter in Boston. We freeze them in the main courtyard of BFAC. Set the containers out overnight and let Mother Nature do the rest."

Daria got up from the bed and wandered over to the tea array. "Do you have any idea of how to hang the panels in an open courtyard?"

Jane crossed her arms and looked pleased. "Already taken care of. I'll have two portable support frames from the gallery to use."

"You're starting to sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I'm the Artist Extraordinaire. Of course I'm sure of myself."

Daria raised an eyebrow.

"If I wasn't, the other students would eat me alive out there. Competitive art is rough."

Karen smirked. "Though you might let some of the cuter guys nibble some."

Daria opened the small refrigerator and removed a bottle of barbeque sauce. "Think this will help me find her a date?"

Karen shook her head. "Doesn't quite go right." Karen thought for a moment; then waved her finger. "I bet a good curry would work better."

Daria rubbed her chin. "I think you're right. We clearly need a superior spice level to go with Jane."

Jane looked between the two. "Um…guys. When was the last time you ate?"

Daria looked at Jane, and then back toward Karen. "A good merlot might work."

Karen slapped her leg. "Oooh. No. That Hungarian red wine you used last week for the goulash."

"Perfect."

Jane started rapidly putting cups in the freezer. "That's it. We are going out for pizza."

Karen shrugged. "Seems a little early for lunch."

Jane finished storing the cups. "Sounds like you two haven't been fed lately."

Daria grinned. "We're fine. Just making advanced plans." Daria reached for her wallet.

Karen rose and grabbed her purse. "You know. We'll need some kind of slow cooking process. With all the running she does…"

Daria put on her heavy coat. "Damn. You're right. The meat's going to be stringy. That means we need a good marinade."

Jane grabbed her jacket. "For that one, you're buying."

Karen finished with her jacket. "Sounds like a plan to me. Daria's buying."

Daria scowled at the two of them. "Later…sometime in the dead of night…you two will regret that."

* * *

Jane looked out of her room window at the light snow falling across the street on the BFAC campus. Saturday night, and she was alone with her sketches. Jane had insisted Daria keep her date with Michael. The whole third wheel thing was just too weird to repeat. Jane hadn't seen her roommate, CC, all day. Not something uncommon; CC tended to keep unique hours.

"Damn, Daria. I was kind of hoping you weren't kidding about playing matchmaker. Old Janey's been kind of lonely the last few months."

She picked up the sketchpad and went back to work. New designs for the ice panels flowed from the pencil with practiced ease. Jane smiled as the composition came together under her careful guidance.

* * *

Jane used the covered walk over the street to pass from the dorm to campus. She made a direct line to Young Hall and the college galleries. Just inside the courtyard doors was a pair of steel-framed support stands, with signs taped to each. "Reserved for Jane Lane". Propping the doors open, she moved the stands into the courtyard. At least twenty other students, all bundled tightly against the winter chill, were busy at designated display/work stations around the courtyard. Scattered around the students were buckets, drums, boxes and a wide range of other containers containing frozen, or freezing, tea.

Jane located her station and put the stands in place. She checked the table and several shallow pans already in place. Jane hurried back inside and went to the empty gallery closest to the courtyard doors. Placed on tables inside were four large coffee urns of hot water. Along the tables were a dozen or more buckets. Jane grabbed three buckets and filled them with hot water. Opening her backpack, she counted out tea bags for each bucket and placed them inside. She checked the time on her watch and leaned back to wait. After ten minutes, she carried the buckets out to her table and carefully filled pans. Once the liquid settled, Jane carefully placed selected, Karen-supplied, insects within. Three repeats of the process had the four pans filled. Jane stretched her stiff fingers.

"These buckets are getting heavy," Jane muttered. She looked at her hands, the pans, and the frames. "Crap. I better start figuring out just how much this grand idea is going to weigh."

* * *

Daria looked up from her quick calculations. "Assuming that each of your eighteen by thirty-six inch panels are a little over two inches thick. Roughly, that's close to fifty pounds. Six panels per frame will be around three hundred."

Jane nodded. "Hmmm. Better come up with something a little tougher than twine to hold them up and together."

"That would be a safe bet. Good thing you thought of this now."

Jane looked upward. "Having a sculpture fall on top of a judge would probably do bad things to my score."

Daria leaned back from the workbench chair in Jane's dorm room and smiled. "That's something I really missed."

"What?"

"Watching you obsess over a project."

"I'm not obsessed, I'm focused."

"Sure."

"You missed that?"

"You provide hours of amusement."

Jane wagged her finger at Daria. "Just you wait, Missy. I know just how to deal with such impudence."

"Hey, how about some of that high-strength monofilament line the off-shore anglers use?"

"Cool. Won't be as obvious either. Your impudence is forgiven. This time."

"Why, thank you for the noble gesture."

"Don't ask me where this came from, but I just remembered. Where did you get that wine you used in that goulash? You're underage."

"Michael's roommate. He's legal age. From what I've seen of that sleazeball, he probably thought Michael was going to get me drunk for some nefarious purpose."

"So, is Michael's room as bad as he makes it sound?"

"It would make Dante crap his pants."

Jane grimaced. "Yuck."

"My thoughts, too."

Jane rubbed her hands together and smirked. "So…have you and Michael been getting…nefarious?"

"Jane…I know where you live."

"That, I'll take as a no."

* * *

Jane worked, as free time permitted, through the week, freezing, chipping, sawing, and smoothing ice. One by one, the panels took shape. Complex designs of music, guitars, pottery, Mesoamerican gods, and _Sick, Sad World_ filled the surfaces. The insects showing through the ice were blended into the overlying pattern.

While the various sculptures were covered when the artists were away, Jane was able to see the other pieces as they were being worked on. The talent filling the space was something she had never imagined. Immediately to her right rose an eight foot Egyptian obelisk, the surface slowly being covered with hieroglyphs, a hint of milk added to the tea to give an opacity that looked like worn sandstone. Three down to the left was a lone tree stump, different tones of tea blended together to give the bark and wood. Across the courtyard, a phoenix rose in flames. Regularly, Jane thought, _This is the big league. Do I even know what I'm doing here?_

Jane was also amazed at the trust shown. There was an air around the courtyard that held each sculpture sacred. The creativity was razor-edged and impressive. The competition was determined and intimidating. But, nobody would dare to sabotage another work. Jane felt a sense of community that she hadn't felt at Ashfield Art Colony a year and a half ago. The excitement continued to build within her.

* * *

Jane stepped off the elevator in Fenderson Hall and headed down the hall to Daria's room. She stopped short upon noticing Karen sitting in the hall next to their door, quietly reading a chemistry textbook and sipping a soda.

"Whoa, what's up? Daria have a hot date and kick you out?"

Karen shook her head. "Bet she wishes. She's on the phone with her some of her family. Last two days have been real _Twilight Zone _for her."

"_Twilight Zone_ and her family always go together."

Karen shook her head and didn't smile. "No, this is really creepy stuff. Yesterday, she was at her transcription job, when she found a recording of her grandfather."

"Which one?"

"Fraternal."

Jane's hand went to her mouth. "Mad Dog?"

"Yeah. She stayed late tonight to see if there were any others. She found a second one."

"From what I've heard of him, this can't be good."

"Daria gave me a brief outline. It sounds like her grandfather endured some stuff that nobody should ever experience. Daria really felt sorry for him. She wanted to talk to her grandmother and father. So, I'm giving her some space."

Jane slid down on the floor next to Karen. "It made Daria feel sorry for her grandfather? I don't think I ever want to know the details."

"She could use a few ears when she's done. Mind staying to provide an extra pair?"

"That's what we're here for." Jane sat beside Karen. _Certainly beats sitting around my dorm feeling like an amateur artist. _

* * *

Jane waited nervously through the Saturday afternoon. She'd shelled out for a new pair of black jeans to wear, her boots were polished, and her bright red coat had been dry cleaned. The courtyard of finished sculptures was a wonderland of bold and imaginative imagery. Three figures trudged up: Daria in her heavy green winter coat, holding hands with Michael, in camo. Behind them was Karen in her brown coat.

"Hey everybody. Good to see you. Karen, no Derek today?"

"National Guard weekend."

"Bummer."

Daria and Michael examined the sculpture. Twelve panels were in place with the frames, forming a corner. About one inch of space separated each. With clear monofilament line for support, they seemed to float in the air. Afternoon sunlight shining through them produced a dazzling backlight.

Michael separated from Daria and examined Jane's sculpture closely. "Wow. Daria, no wonder you've picked up such intolerance for bad art. You've been hanging around stuff like this."

Jane nudged in beside Daria and whispered. "You have him well trained."

Daria smiled. "He came that way."

Jane spoke to Michael. "Thank you. I was just complimenting Mistress Daria on how well behaved you are."

Michael gave Jane a brief wink. "You know how she is when she brings the whip out."

Daria glared at Michael.

Karen stopped her examination of the work at one particular bug, and its position relative to one of the carved figures. "That's just wrong…wrong and sick…and perverted. I like it."

Jane chuckled. "Those two sure are."

Karen looked up, confused. "Huh?"

Daria, Jane and Michael laughed.

Karen pouted and put fists on her hips. "What?"

Jane grinned and shook her head. "Karen, you don't want to know. Why don't you three wander around some? I have to stay here, but you really should see the other entries. Oh, somebody grab me some coffee on the way back, please?"

Daria and Michael wandered off in one direction, Karen in another. Jane patiently waited around her station, occasionally talking with visitors about herself or her work.

Twenty minutes later, a tall, lanky young man with black hair approached. He wore a black snowmobile jacket with a red stripe down each sleeve. He carried two cups of coffee with him. "Jane Lane?"

Jane eyed him suspiciously.

"Daria Morgendorffer asked me to bring a cup out to you. She and her boyfriend are inside."

Jane accepted the offered coffee, wrapping her hands around it for warmth. "Thanks."

"She also said to tell you, 'I owed you one'."

Jane eyed him from head to toe. "She did, did she? You have a name?"

"Al Jakobs."

Jane grabbed his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Al. By any chance, has she told you any stories about me?"

"A couple. Makes you sound like you've led an interesting life. Did you really fix a van with a hot glue gun?"

Jane grinned. "Oh, she told you that one. Now let me tell you about what else happened on that trip."

* * *

Jane walked away from the small podium holding a plaque. "Award of Merit. That's pretty cool." She joined up with Daria, Michael, Karen and Al.

Daria looked a little sad. "Sorry you didn't do better."

Jane placed one hand on her hip and gave a sly grin. "Daria, I was beaten by better artists. They were more creative, more imaginative, and more technically skilled." Jane waved her other hand around the courtyard. "This is a real world of art. Look at the vision and genius shown here. I'm a novice looking upon giants." She momentarily looked uncertain, and then developed a bright gleam in her blue eyes. "But some day, I will be among them. And it's all your doing." Jane quickly lunged and hugged Daria.

"Aack!"

Jane released her friend. "Thanks, Amiga."

* * *

_Cold Iron_ by Rudyard Kipling (musical arrangement by Leslie Fish)

Thanks to the denizens of PPMB for comments and suggestions: Steven Galloway, Ranger Thorne, Roger E. Moore, Decelaraptor, Kristen Bealer, and Parker-man.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

August 2004  
Revised February 2005


	12. Days of Expression

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the twelfth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Days of Expression**

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Daria Morgendorffer lowered the newspaper. "Nope. No movies I'm interested in."

Across their Raft University dorm room, Daria's roommate, Karen Myerson, sat sideways on her bed with her back resting against the wall. "Big town like Boston and we can't figure out something to do for a Saturday afternoon."

Jane Lane sat backward in a desk chair between them. "There has to be a college party somewhere. Haven't you two heard of any?"

"Still trying to drag me out to parties?" Daria shot back.

Smirking, Jane replied, "Just keeping my promise."

Karen shook her head. "Okay, my Derek's stuck attending a family wedding this weekend and Daria's Michael is elbow-deep in getting a sociology presentation together for Monday. What's your excuse? Al not work out?"

Jane shook a finger at Daria. "That boy was just too weird, even for my tastes."

Daria crossed her arms. "Go to all that work to set you up with a date."

Jane rubbed her forehead. "You're getting me back for all the times I tried to set you up with Trent. Where did you find him?"

"Well, I might have been out for a little revenge. Al has been in my first-year education classes, and I thought you could appreciate his…unique perspective on life."

"Daria, even I have my limits. So I hooked him up with my roommate, CC. They seem to be getting along fine."

Karen circled her hand between the three of them. "Thus leaving the three of us with nothing to do on a Saturday night."

The telephone ringing resulted in Daria and Karen looking at each other. Karen said, "Your turn."

Daria raised her eyebrows. "Oh, no. Your turn. I had to deal with that Florida condo salesman this morning."

"Damn." Karen answered the still ringing telephone. "Hello…Yes, she's here, just a second." Karen held it up, "Daria, for you. Some guy I don't recognize."

Daria looked up curiously and took the phone. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end said, "Daria. Hi, Tom…Sloane."

"Tom?"

Jane looked over with a "this can't be good" expression. Karen leaned toward Jane and whispered, "Wasn't that the name of the guy she dated in high school?" Jane nodded.

Tom Sloane sat by himself in his Bromwell University dorm room, speaking into his cell phone, "I thought…well, we mentioned talking about our lives occasionally…so, I decided to call and talk some."

"Sure…uh…we can talk."

"Thanks. I hope you don't mind."

"N...no."

"Great. I knew we'd need some time after the breakup. That's why I haven't called since…that last time we saw each other, in front of your house."

"Thanks. I appreciate the thought."

"So, how's life at Raft?"

"Um…going pretty well, I guess."

"That's good. Talked to Jane lately?"

"You could say that. She got into BFAC's winter enrollment."

He said in surprise, "She's in Boston too?"

"Sitting about six feet away from me, listening to everything I say, and making faces."

"Figures. Say 'hi' to her for me."

"I will. Um…How are things going at Bromwell?"

"Not too bad. I like the greater challenge in class."

"I must admit I'm enjoying that too. Are Elsie and your parents doing okay?"

"They're all doing fine. How are Quinn and your folks?"

"Doing well."

"I saw in the paper last summer that you and Jane were both inducted into that new honor society at Lawndale High. Congratulations."

Daria smiled as she remembered the honor society she, Jane and Michael MacKenzie, or Mack, engineered to relieve pressure on Mack's overworked girlfriend, Jodie Landon. While the primary goal of getting Jodie one afternoon free a week worked, the official sponsor also maneuvered Daria into forming it into a real organization to be continued at Lawndale High. A role switch that all involved found amusing. Daria told Tom, "Thanks."

"Too bad it didn't happen sooner, it might have helped your Bromwell application."

Her smiled turned into a scowl. "Tom, you should know better than to even go close to that subject."

"Oops. Sorry. Still putting my foot in my mouth."

"Please don't do it again," Daria said with a hint of sternness.

"I promise."

"Besides, I think Raft has turned out to be a better choice. In addition to Jane, I found another best friend in my roommate, Karen."

"Nice to hear you had a winner in the roommate lottery."

Daria gave her friends a smile. "The three of us were plotting what to do to Boston tonight."

"Your roommate gets along with Jane?"

"Yes."

"You two, joined by a third like-minded soul, plotting to take on Boston. That is a frightening concept."

"I see you still like flattery."

"It does have its uses."

"Well, did you pull a psycho, or something worse, in the roommate lottery?"

"Kind of middle of the road. Not much to like, or dislike. We keep a business-like arrangement on maintaining the room."

"Oh. That sounds…efficient."

"About the best you can say about it. Two rich kids waiting to move into their own places."

"You said it, not me."

"Well, it is the truth. Guess a little bit of you rubbed off on me." Tom's voice got a little softer. "If you don't mind me asking, has anyone in Boston realized you're somebody worth getting to know?"

Uh…well…yes. I've been going out with someone for a couple months now."

"I hope you're happy."

"Thanks, I am. How about you? Seeing anybody?"

Tom said, "Nobody currently; I dated another freshman for a while last fall."

"I'm sorry things didn't work out."

"Don't be. Before you ask, I didn't call to try to get us back together. I've accepted that what we had was nice, but that you were right, we got bored and were drifting apart."

"Good."

"But, I also meant what I said; I want to stay your friend, because I look up to you and respect your opinion."

Daria closed her eyes and remembered their parting. "I still want to be your friend, too." She opened her eyes and looked at Jane and Karen waiting. "I'm glad you called, but I've been ignoring Jane and Karen. They're getting restless and making threatening gestures, so I better get going. Hope to hear from you again."

"Thanks. I've enjoyed talking with you. Goodbye.

"Bye."

Daria hung up the phone.

Jane leaned forward. "No extended claws, no bared teeth. That seemed to go well."

"I thought so. Tom's doing okay at Bromwell. He said to tell you 'hi'. He still has a tendency to hit sensitive spots without realizing it."

"I noticed. Want to share?"

"He made a comment that our 'Jodie rescue' project might have helped my Bromwell application."

Jane shook her head. "Sometimes, that boy just doesn't learn."

Karen slid forward. "You applied to Bromwell?"

"I didn't get in, but Tom did." Daria saw the question in Karen's eyes. "That didn't directly cause the breakup, but, during the process, I began to realize how far we were apart, and that our differences were only getting wider."

Bringing up her knees, Karen said, "Back when you first started dating Michael, I asked if you were as nervous as when you started dating this guy. You said you would tell me later, this seems like as good of time as any."

Daria fidgeted uncomfortably and looked at Jane. Jane gave a half-smile and shrugged.

Daria said, "Like I told you then, it wasn't one of my proudest moments."

Karen noticed the look between the other two. "And Jane was somehow involved."

Daria slowly spoke. "Tom had dated Jane for a lot of our junior year. When I first went out on a date with Tom, things were…awkward between Jane and me."

Jane said, "I wasn't speaking to her."

Karen narrowed her eyes. "Wait, back up. What happened?"

Daria looked down at her feet. "I kissed Tom before he and Jane broke up."

Karen stared in surprise at Daria. "Oh…But…that is so…unlike you."

Daria was still visibly nervous. "Ordinarily, yes. Jane, are you comfortable with this?"

Jane rolled the chair over and placed a hand on Daria's. "I told you, I'm over it. I think the whole situation traumatized you more."

Daria gave Jane a small smile. "Thanks. In a way, this might be a good time to…try to explain things a little better."

Jane nodded. "Go ahead."

Daria closed her eyes. "It started a couple months before. I was trying to escape from the school's spring homecoming parade, after making a trip to the store for my dad."

Jane smirked. "To get toilet paper; he was stranded."

Daria rolled her eyes. "I ran into a little boy I knew from a babysitting job. He'd been separated from his parents in the crowd. While searching for said parents, we ran into Tom, who was looking for Jane. They'd crossed wires on where to meet."

Jane added, "We went to different drug stores."

"To my surprise, I enjoyed myself. That was when I first realized that Tom was an interesting person to know. Prior to that, I didn't get along with him, which caused a lot of problems."

"After the parade, the two of them stopped sniping at each other."

"Over time, I started to become attracted to him. We could talk about things…"

"Such as Fellini films or the comparative talents of Stalin, Machiavelli, and Ms. Li."

Karen raised her eyebrows at Jane.

Daria continued. "Tom was the first guy I was ever able to talk with at any significant length. It grew on me, and my attraction to him grew stronger, but I was in denial. I couldn't be interested in Jane's boyfriend. I told myself so much that I believed it."

"That, I can see. Go on," Karen said softly.

"Things started to become obvious after a minor fire at my house. We had to vacate it for repairs. I stayed at Jane's to avoid sharing a hotel room with my sister."

Karen smirked. "I could see where you wouldn't want to share with Quinn."

"Jane sensed something was going on. She and Tom were not getting along as well as they used to, and Tom and I were starting to have more long conversations. Trent noticed that Tom was attracted to me."

Jane sat up straight. "What? Trent knew something was up?"

"I thought he would have told you."

"No."

"Um, sorry."

"I'm gonna have to have a little talk with him."

Daria rubbed her eyes. "Anyway. I went back home, and things continued to be strained between the two of us. It all blew up when I foolishly let Jane talk me into dyeing her hair into a black and blond tiger-stripe."

Karen said, "This doesn't sound good."

"It was worse. I made a complete mess of it. Jane threw me out of the house."

Karen looked at Jane. "You thought she did it on purpose?"

Jane nodded. "I was thinking a little crazy, but, yeah."

"Jane hid out for a day and dyed her hair back to normal. I went over and had a long talk with Jane, and was very adamant that I had no interest in Tom. Hell, I believed it. Talk about fooling yourself. When I walked home, Tom was waiting out front in his car, and asked me to get in. I asked if he wanted to talk about Jane, but part of me was hoping he didn't. He said no, he wanted to talk about him and me."

"Starting to sound like he was scoping you out before breaking up with Jane," Karen said.

"Maybe, or he might have been as confused about the whole situation as I was. We talked, I chewed him out for disrupting my friendship with Jane; he said that he and Jane were getting bored with each other. I told him I would be stabbing Jane in the back to be even interested in him, he said he would be a jerk to consider it, and then he kissed me."

Karen shrugged a little. "Okay, he kissed you, but you didn't start it. I can see where Jane would want to mutilate him. But don't quite understand why you are being so hard on yourself."

Daria shook her head. "Karen, you should realize that I was seventeen, and had never kissed a boy. Never. Part of me was resigned to the idea that nobody would ever be interested. My crush on Jane's brother, Trent, had gone completely nowhere. As far as I could tell at the time, he hadn't noticed. I'd somewhat connected with a boy named Ted the year before, but he wandered off into video games at the first opportunity. I was too harsh and cynical for anyone to like. You have a good idea of what kind of personal walls I had up to isolate myself from others."

"I don't think I'll ever forget dealing with those walls." Karen agreed.

"When he kissed me, they fell away. I'd no idea of what kind of affect a simple kiss would have on me, that it would feel…so good." Daria blushed in embarrassment. "After I realized I was enjoying it, I pulled away, cursing. He tried to joke about it, I said it wasn't funny, and he agreed. But, we both kissed again. I wanted to. It felt good to have somebody…interested in me. I was in territory I had no experience in, nor preparation for. For one of the few times in my life, I reacted instead of thinking things through. In the process, I betrayed Jane…" Daria fell into silence.

Karen looked wide-eyed at Daria. "Oh."

"Right after…I thought about what I'd done to Jane, and regained control. I fled the car and ran inside. I wasn't able to sleep at all that night. All I could think about was how I had stabbed Jane in the back."

Jane addressed Karen. "To her credit, she told me the truth right away the next morning at school. Though in her usual direct method, it was quite a shock."

Daria said, "I felt like hell, but I couldn't stay quiet. Jane deserved to know."

Jane showed a little strain. "I broke up with Tom later that day. I told Daria I was okay with her going out with Tom. My turn to be delusional."

"In a rare display of naiveté on my part, I took her comment at face value. When Tom called to ask me out later that night, I agreed."

Jane said, "When I found out, I was mad again at Daria. That was late in May. We really didn't talk much again until mid-August."

Daria looked at Karen. "So, that's the sordid story. Oh, and to answer your original question, before my first date with Tom, I was extremely nervous, also guilty, and excited."

Karen looked at the two friends. "I can imagine."

Standing up, Jane said, "Okay, enough wallowing in old memories. If we can't think of anything else, let's go get some pizza."

* * *

Next morning, Daria sat her bed and looked out the window. Overnight snows had blanketed the inner quad with an undisturbed white. With Karen already departed for work, the room was quiet and peaceful.

_His timing could've been better, but I'm glad I finally heard from Tom. Speaking with him as a friend, without any jealousy or romantic entanglements was…different. Once we get past the awkwardness, this looks promising. Even with his faults, he was a good guy; I'm looking forward to knowing him as a friend. I know Tom liked me, and I liked him. But looking back, there did seem to be something…missing._

Minutes later, Daria leaned back in a chair with her feet propped up on the desk, sipping coffee and reading from a spiral-bound notebook labeled "1999 Vol. 1". A fireproof lockbox was beside her, partially filled with more spiral notebooks.

_**02/14/99**_

**_Today was the first Valentine's Day I've had someone to celebrate with. Tom did make an effort, and things went smoother than our six month anniversary, back in November. Of course, it helps that I wasn't acting as weird, either._**

Daria remembered the day from almost a year before.

Jake Morgendorffer stood by the open front door and called up the stairs, "Daria! Tom is here."

Daria walked down the stairs to see Tom waiting just inside the door, talking with her dad. "Thanks, Dad. Hi, Tom"

Tom looked over. "Hi, Daria." He stepped aside to allow Daria to pass, and followed her out to his slightly rusty Jaguar.

Settling into the passenger seat, Daria asked, "Any big Valentine's plans for us?"

Tom briefly looked over at Daria. "Well, you know how I feel about a lot of that corny stuff. But, I'm going to try."

"Thank you. I'm not much for corny either. However…I like being with someone this year, instead of watching from the outside."

After a brief kiss, they drove to High Hills Park, on the other side of Lawndale. Although the park was mostly still a dull, after-winter brown, a few specks of green were beginning to appear in the landscape. After parking, Tom removed a basket from the trunk. "I hope a small picnic will meet with your approval."

"That could work. Watching the precision drill formations of ants always gets my blood going."

Tom led Daria to the top of a small hill. Tom set the basket down and spread a blanket on the ground. He carefully removed some light sandwiches and fruit from the basket, a bottle of soda and two glasses. When he tried to place a vase holding a single red carnation in the center, it tipped on the uneven ground and spread a fan of water across one side of the blanket. "Oops. Guess that wasn't such a bright idea."

Daria sat on the dry side of the blanket. "But, a nice thought."

Tom sat and poured soda into the glasses before handing one to Daria. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Daria gave him a brief smile. "Happy Valentine's Day to you."

Tom took a bite from a sandwich. "How about we head over to my place as soon as we finish lunch? I picked up the new expansion to _Zombie Slaughterhouse_ we could try out."

Daria picked up one of the sandwiches, slightly disappointed. "Sure, why not. What else is there to do at a picnic after you eat?"

Tom smiled. "Other than hang around to feed the ants?"

Daria gave him a small smile. "Or watch the ants feed on other picnickers." She fingered the small package in her jacket pocket. "I…um…picked up something for you." She removed the gift-wrapped box and handed it to Tom.

Tom unwrapped the present, to find a silver bookmark with an _Art Nouveau_ design pierced through the metal. "Oh…wow…thanks." He pocketed it and continued with his lunch.

_Tom was getting better at trying, it just…this sounds so silly…he could never get past feeling that things were corny. But, to be honest, I didn't help much either. How often did I get mad and try to break up with him?_

Daria returned the diary volume to the lockbox. "If I'm going to do the introspection thing, Tom wasn't the only romantic interest I've had."

_After our talk last summer, I know Trent had some feelings for me by the time of that silly multimedia project. He took all the blame as a way to ease away my crush on him, because we were really too different to make things work. He may be the world's biggest slacker, but his capacity to give will always be one of his most endearing qualities._

Daria shook her head and walked to her bed. Curling her legs underneath, she sat and stared out the window.

_When he dropped me off last month, after driving Jane and I up here, he started to say he hadn't felt as strongly for someone as he did his current girlfriend, Lindy, in two…something. If he started to say two years, that would be in the months after that project._

Daria watched the snow-covered ground with concern.

_If he did still have strong feelings, it must have been hard on him to watch Tom drift away from Jane and become attracted to me. And to watch Tom and I get together after. Damn. I wonder how much of that song, Betrayal, was about how he felt?_

Daria sighed and rubbed her eyes.

_Good one. All that time, we thought he was oblivious, and it was me instead._

"Well, this is getting frustrating. Maybe a look into the past will give me some help." She pulled a trunk from under her bed and opened the lock. Inside was lifetime of diaries from Theresa Blaine. Daria remembered the grand lady with fondness, and the times Daria read to her at the Better Days retirement home before her death. She visually scanned the marked spines, removed a marked volume, and sat back against the wall to read.

_**February 14, 1934**_

**_How do you describe an evening that went so right? Mark once again has shown himself to be a true gentleman. He surprised me with a dozen paper roses (who can afford that many real ones these days?) and a quiet dinner. Enjoyable conversation and gentle kisses. I wanted the evening to continue forever._**

Daria looked up with a slight smirk. "Are you trying to drop hints to me? Okay, time to start examining how things are going with Michael."

Daria closed and returned the diary to its place in the trunk. After sliding it back under the bed, she went to the desk and reopened the lockbox with her diaries to retrieve the most recent. She sat down and began to write, using the silver pen that had also been a gift from Mrs. Blaine.

_**2/13/00**_

_**How do you feel about him, Morgendorffer?**_

* * *

Fresh from her after-work shower, Karen entered the dorm room to find Daria intently studying a spreadsheet on her computer. "Nose deep in more work; Michael must still be sweating away on his project."

Daria looked up. "I guess; his roommate said he hadn't seen him today. Knowing that guy, it only means that Michael left before one PM. I didn't see him over at the library. We probably missed each other."

"Hmm." Karen tossed a knotted plastic bag containing her work clothes into a hamper. "He does strike me as being devious enough to tell you he's busy elsewhere while he prepares something special for tomorrow."

"Yeah, right."

"He adores you."

"I can't see him spending the whole day shopping."

"Well, at least not intentionally. Him spending half the day in a confused fog trying to figure something out, that I can see." Karen squatted next to her and pointed to a pendant around Daria's neck. "He has a good track record. You hardly take that off."

Daria gave a short laugh. "He does."

"Or…he could be plotting something that just takes a lot of time, but not necessarily shopping."

"Maybe." After a moments silence, Daria quietly continued, "I hope I don't drive him away."

"Hmm? Why would you think that?"

"My track record."

Karen grabbed the other desk chair and sat down. "I know that feeling."

Daria looked up. "You do?"

Karen's eyes were sad. "I've scared away more guys than you have. There aren't that many that appreciate a girl that can curse enough to make a sailor blush."

"There's a lot more to you than that, and I've only heard you get that fired up at the computer."

"I suppose. But hell, you have an ex that calls and you can be on good terms with him. If any of my old boyfriends called, it would be more like an artillery duel."

"Uh…"

"Your first crush is like a brother to you now."

"Well, yes."

"So, it looks like the only one you really 'drove away' was that Ted guy, who disappeared on the first date. From what Jane said, I think that boy had some other problems dealing with the real world."

"Damn. How do you do that?"

"Same as you and Jane, I call them as I see them. Too bad that seems to be a dead end with the guys I've dated."

"Outside Mr. Octopus that took you to the prom, you haven't really said much about them."

"Not a hell of a lot to talk about. I'd date guys, they'd get tired of me, and things would go to hell in a handbasket."

"Isn't that being a little melodramatic?"

"Possibly, but still accurate. Derek has been the longest, and most stable, relationship I've had. Maybe getting away with the National Guard once a month to shoot things lets him work off the stress I cause."

"I'll admit shooting live ammunition probably is a great stress reliever. But, let me pose a line of reasoning."

"Go ahead."

"You think you're too hard to get along with, that's why you've had relationships end so badly."

"Correct."

"Are these behavioral problems directed strictly toward males of the species?"

"I wouldn't think so."

"Okay. Do I put up with a lot of annoying nonsense from those around me?"

"Well, no."

"Therefore, you cannot be so irritating that you drive others away."

Karen eased back in her chair and raised an eyebrow. "You're good. That is, unless we are both such irritating losers that we are the only people that can tolerate each other."

"That could be seen as a reasonable supposition, but Derek is proof to the contrary. Unless I've been hallucinating, he's happy to be with you every time."

"Aha, and Michael is proof that you're not intolerable. If that boy gets any more puppy-eyed looking at you, I'm getting him a box of dog biscuits."

"Damn. Does that mean that we are starting to be well-adjusted?"

"Or that our boyfriends are utterly mad for putting up with us?"

"A more likely scenario, I think. By the way, don't sell yourself short. When you get wound up, you could make a sailor faint."

"Gee, thanks."

"What friends are for?"

Karen grinned and shrugged. "Abuse, it appears. Hey, what do you have planned for Michael?"

"Oh…I really don't know yet. What do you have up your sleeve for Derek?"

Karen developed an evil smirk. "You're gonna like this. I found out that the husband of one of the ladies I work with is a chocolatier…"

"Be careful letting Jane know about that."

Karen chuckled. "I'm having him make a chocolate DNA spiral for molecular-bio boy."

"Geek romance."

"He should get a smile out of it."

"I'm sure he will. Damn. Now I'm starting to feel bad about doing something for Michael."

"Knowing his fascination with Roman archaeology, how about a statue of one of the Roman gods, such as Priapus?

"Karen!"

A faux innocent roll of the eyes was Karen's response.

"You make a suggestion like that again, and you will learn firsthand why Vlad Tepes was called the Impaler."

Karen smirked. "Like there's no phallic symbolism in that suggestion."

"Argh."

Karen picked up her purse. "Grab your jacket. We're going hunting."

"I really don't feel like spending the rest of the day shopping."

"Who said shopping, you don't have to buy something. We're hunting for ideas, and those can come from any source."

"You're going to be a pest if I don't agree."

"Like the flies on what I shovel at the zoo."

Daria gave a resigned sigh, stuffed her wallet into a jacket pocket and put it on. "Lead on."

* * *

"Bal-Mart. Temple to the great Gods of Consumerism." Jane smirked as she went inside the grossly oversized store. "I should be able to find some wonderfully tasteless crap in here for that new sculpture." She pulled a shopping cart from the rack, did a quick jog and hopped on the back for a ride. Jane noticed a familiar, unmistakable combination of bright red hair and camouflage jacket. Jane skidded to a stop and tapped on the man's shoulder. "Michael?"

He turned. "Hi, Jane."

"I thought you had some big project this weekend."

Michael Fulton scanned the area. "Is Daria with you?"

"No."

He relaxed. "Good. I finished yesterday. I'm hoping to use the extra time today to find a nice Valentine's gift for her."

"You're not going the dozen roses route?"

"Do you have any idea of how much those things cost this time of year? I might want to have children some day."

"Is Daria aware of this plan?"

"Well, it's not necessarily so much a plan as keeping options open. For some time in the far future. Far, far future. In any case, I'm still not interested in parting with one."

Jane smirked. "I'm sure she'll be relived to hear that."

"Um, Jane, think you could maybe give me a hand in finding something for Daria? I got lucky with Christmas, but with her, the jewelry route is limited. You've known her for a long time. Any ideas?"

"I suppose so, but I'll tell you up front, I won't get my belly button pierced."

"Huh?"

"When we were sophomores, Daria went off to help my brother find me a birthday present, and she ended up with a pierced belly button."

"This must be the brother she had a crush on. Belly button piercing…hmm."

"I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"I get the feeling that she didn't keep it."

Jane grinned. "I'd have guessed you figured that out by now, one way or the other."

Blushing, Michael stammered. "Um…er…no…not really."

Jane laughed at his reaction. "One more thing. If we see a parade, I'm running like hell."

Michael gave Jane a curious look. "Um…yeah…sure. I'll keep that in mind. Any idea of where to start?"

"Wandering aimlessly works for me."

"I was able to that on my own."

"But, now you'll have expert advice."

"Jane, I know you're having fun, but please, I…I don't want to screw this up."

Jane stopped the cart and looked at him more seriously. "You care for her quite a bit, don't you?"

"Yes. I…" Michael turned away from Jane. "…Care a lot about her."

Jane raised both eyebrows and walked around to face him. "Okay. Ostentatious is right out, but you've probably guessed that already. Cute will get you maimed…"

* * *

"Quinn, you evil witch." Daria muttered, feeling the soft surface of the green cashmere sweater she wore, a gift from her sister. "You gave me this because you knew I'd get hooked on how comfortable it is. You're a conniving, appearance-obsessed…"

A knock on the door announced Michael's arrival.

_Dammit heart, quit pounding like that, you're distracting. _"Come on in." Daria replied to the door.

Michael entered, carrying a package wrapped in green. Before him, Daria rose from one of two chairs by a folding table, set for dinner. A single candle burned next to dishes containing a freshly prepared meal of honey chicken, herbed rice and tossed salad. "Wow." He stared at the table in wonder. "When you invited me over for dinner, I thought you were picking up some take-out."

"Well, Karen and I actually do a fair amount of our own cooking. It costs less than the university meal cards or eating out, and we have better choice in what we eat. I hope you like it."

"You're serving real food; of course I'll like it. I have something for you, happy Valentine's Day."

Daria smiled at Michael and accepted the package. Slowly, she opened it and found a small, deep blue-glass vase holding twelve red, miniature silk roses.

Michael continued. "Kind of funny, I started out dismissing the idea of roses, but somehow, the idea of a small bouquet that wouldn't get in the way, or wilt, seemed to be…right."

Daria placed the vase down in front of her plate. "Right…that is a good way to describe them." She placed her hands around the back of his neck and pulled his face down to kiss him. "Thank you."

Michael softly brought his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "You're welcome. And thank you. Does the candle mean you're trying to be a little romantic?"

"I suppose so. I liked the idea of us having a little peace and quiet together."

"Karen not expected back any time soon?"

"She and Derek have an eight o'clock reservation at the Boston Commons Steakhouse. Derek won dinner for two in a radio contest. It'll be after ten before she gets back."

Michael chuckled. "Hopefully Jane will have the sense to stay away."

"I promised severe bodily harm to her easel if she showed up tonight."

"That's cold."

"But, sometimes necessary." Daria reluctantly disengaged and waved toward the table. "Shall we?"

* * *

Later, the two sat in candlelight, talking over the remains of their meal. Daria said, "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Um, sure."

"How did you figure out…how to put this…the way you treat me. Nobody's ever treated me…hell, like some kind of royalty."

"My parents have always been close. I just, kind of treated you the way my Dad treated my Mom." He looked thoughtful a moment. "When I say it that way, it sounds kind of creepy."

"A bit incestuous, but I'll forgive you." Daria gave him a gentle smirk. "It also means you're the first person I've met with well-adjusted parents. Still, I can't believe your father's treated your mother like this for, at least eighteen years."

"Well, maybe not quite to the same extent. It's just…I guess…I'm being a little overly cautious. I don't want you to be disappointed…or to drive you off."

Daria looked at him in surprise.

"I'm not going overboard, am I?" He slapped his forehead. "Crap. I have been. You must feel I'm some kind of phony or something."

"You have gone somewhat overboard in trying to make me feel special. But, I've kind of enjoyed it. Just don't tell anyone in my family that, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Deal. So, you don't think I've been a phony?"

"No, but you should tone things down a bit. I think you've been like me, very surprised at how well things have been going between us, and scared to death of driving the other away."

"Okay, I'll agree to lighten up. Don't be shy about telling me to, either. Now, though some people might find your bluntness and sarcasm a problem, it is one of the things I like about you. Otherwise, how could you drive me away?"

"Michael, you're sweet. In the past, I've…crap…been very stupid…and caused a lot of pain." Daria released a deep breath. "I've already told this story once recently; I better tell you, since it may affect how you think about me. I'm sorry I haven't said anything before, but this isn't easy. Basically, it is me at my very worst."

Daria spent the next half-hour recounting the story of how she and Tom became involved, their somewhat tortuous relationship and how it ended. "In the long run, it turned into an overall good experience, but in getting there, I discovered my worst side."

"I think we all have a worst side, and are capable of huge mistakes."

"I'm very grateful that Jane was able to forgive me."

"I suspect, because she knew that deep down, your actions were the result of bad judgment, not malice. Seeing the guilt in your eyes, I don't think you would allow yourself to do anything like that again."

"I hope not."

"Though, that story does explain that parade comment Jane made yesterday…oops."

Daria cocked an eye at him.

"I ran into her while trying to get an idea for today, and asked her for help. She made a comment about running away if we saw a parade."

"That sounds like her humor."

"It is a lot on the unusual side. Some of her suggestions…"

"I'll fess up; Karen tried to help me yesterday too. Some of her ideas were, well, let's not trod that path anytime soon."

He chuckled. "In the end, I spotted the silk roses, though Jane did think they were a good idea."

"While my dinner came from some old reading."

"So much for originality. By the way, Jane also mentioned something about you getting your belly button pierced…"

"She didn't. She did, how else would you know about it? Now my humiliation is complete. She will die the death of a thousand piercings."

"Makes me feel a little better that I'm not the only one to do something utterly ridiculous because of the opposite sex."

Daria gave him a questioning look.

"During my junior year of high school, there was a girl I had a crush on. For a little background, the school teams were called the Warriors. Every year at homecoming, they have the human catapult, our version of a human cannonball. Well, I volunteered to be the rock to impress this girl. Yes, I know, stupid testosterone tricks. Stayed curled into a ball through the shot, bounced on the safety net, and decided to do a showy landing. Both feet went through the net mesh, resulting in my full weight hitting the net between my legs."

Daria grimaced.

"Yes, I was wearing a cup; it prevented damage, not pain. To add to the embarrassment, it was all caught on videotape and shown on the local news shows as their 'sports gaff of the week'. I have a copy, if you want to see the evidence. Oh, yeah. The girl didn't even see it; she skipped the game to go on a date."

"Okay, that beats a navel ring. And I don't think I want to see the video, I'll take your word for it."

Michael looked at his watch. "Damn, almost ten already." He walked around the table as Daria rose. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Daria felt herself relax against his chest. "I know we agreed you don't have to go to all the trouble to make me feel special."

"Yes."

She circled his waist with her arms and looked up at him. " Um, the way you've been very softly putting your arms around me and pulling me to you when we embrace, do you mind continuing to do that?" Blushing, Daria continued, "I like the way it feels."

"I don't mind at all."

They stayed together for a couple minutes before Michael carefully pulled away. "Sorry to end this, but I should get going. I'm sorry."

"I understand; school calls. An addiction we both succumb to." She went to the table and picked up the vase with one hand, while pressing the pendant he had given her for Christmas against her chest. "Thank you again. You have a way of choosing gifts that mean something."

Michael smiled and gave her a lingering kiss. "Good night." He opened the door and stepped out.

Just before he closed the door, Daria said, "Good night." After, she carried the miniature bouquet to her desk and set it on the shelf, above the computer monitor. "When something like this is sincere, it's not corny." Daria picked up the dishes and placed them in a plastic tote to take to one of the large sinks for washing. She softly smiled and gazed upward. "An evening that went so right…Mrs. Blaine, perhaps you are trying to give me a hint. I'm beginning to feel…I don't quite know, but…I could grow to like it."

Michael began to walk toward the elevator. _You were supposed to tell her tonight. Damn. Quit being such an idiot. _He turned to look at the closed door. "I love you."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Isa Yo-Jo, Mahna Mahna, DJW, ipswichfan, Decelaraptor, nmorgendorffer, Mike Nassour,for comments, suggestions and all the usual stuff at PPMB

Thanks to ipswichfan and Karen Bealer for beta reading.

September 2004  
Revised February 2005


	13. Flaming the Fans

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the thirteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Flaming the Fans**

Karen Myerson stood at the makeshift kitchen that she and her Raft University roommate, Daria Morgendorffer, had set up in their dorm room. In use were a small microwave oven and a two-element hotplate. Daria's already-worn copy of _1001 Dorm Recipes for Hot Plate, Microwave and Toaster Oven - Revised Edition_, a high school graduation gift from her Aunt Amy, was propped open against the wall. The sound of the door opening, followed by a loud honking of a nose being blown, made her turn.

Red-eyed and pale, Daria entered the room and tossed a used tissue into the trash. In a raspy, cold-distorted voice, she said, "Thank goodness the week is over. Maybe I can get a little rest and get over this freakin' cold."

Pointing the spoon she had been using at Daria, Karen said, "I'm still cooking. There is no way that 'Typhoid Daria' will get anywhere around my dinner. I'm not sick and I plan on staying that way. I'm sure some day I will get sick, you can inflict your cooking on me then."

The poorly-aimed backpack that Daria dropped on her desk chair tipped and fell over onto the floor. She gave the offending luggage a tired look. "Screw it." Her jacket was dumped on top of the backpack and she made her way past Karen to her closet. "I'm too tired to argue with your overwhelming concern tonight. Knock yourself out over dinner." After a loud coughing fit and change into a warm nightshirt, Daria flopped onto her bed.

A minute later, Karen walked over to her sleeping friend and removed her glasses. "Stubborn people."

* * *

Wracked by another coughing fit, Daria rolled out of her bed. "I feel like crap." Daria's mood sunk further as she realized her voice was still hoarse. She picked up her glasses from the window sill. "I don't remember taking you off…" She shrugged and put them on. 

Achy and tired, Daria gathered her things together and headed out the door toward the common restroom down the hall. As she closed the door, she noticed Karen had tacked up a handmade biohazard sign with 'Plague Victim" written on it. _Cute._

Inside the restroom, Daria worked through her morning routine. Partway through, one of the other floor residents, a brunette with narrow, oval glasses, Jenn Cavendish, entered. Daria turned to greet her, but abruptly turned away as another fit of coughing hit.

Jenn stopped short of Daria. "That doesn't sound good. Have you been to the student clinic?"

Still hoarse, Daria replied, "Not yet. You better keep your distance. I'm going to try to get over there after breakfast."

"Breakfast? Daria, I ate lunch an hour ago." Jenn looked at her watch. "It's one-thirty-five."

"I slept for nineteen hours?"

"Want someone to walk over with you?"

"Don't worry; I'll make it, thanks."

Jenn continued toward a shower. "Okay…Be careful."

"I will. I like the concept of continued existence."

* * *

Hours later, Daria sat on an exam table of the Student Clinic. The Licensed Nurse Practitioner on duty was talking. "You have a garden variety common cold, coupled with stress and lack of sleep common to students. I'm prescribing rest for the next three days, no getting out of it. If you give me your class schedule, I'll email an excuse to your professors that you'll be out of class on Monday and Tuesday." 

"With how I feel right now, you don't have to work too hard to convince me to stay in."

"Exactly. Stay in. Minimize your outside activity as much as possible. I'd advise just keeping to your dorm room. Avoid others as much as feasible to prevent spreading the cold. We have enough students out this time of year as it is; every little bit helps. Stay well hydrated and use common sense and over-the-counter medicines to treat symptoms."

"Again, you don't need to twist my arm."

"Finally, you haven't shown any signs of a secondary bacterial infection, so the clinic won't give you antibiotics. If you feel any change for the worse, come back for a new evaluation. Any questions?"

"Know any good chicken soup recipes?"

The LNP smiled. "I like a good sense of humor. As a matter of fact…"

* * *

"Hey! Where have you been?" Jane's voice greeted Daria as she opened the door to her room. 

"The clinic, getting this cold checked out."

"About time." Jane grinned.

"She wouldn't listen to me, either," Karen added.

"That's because it's nothing more than a cold, a miserable, make-you-feel-like-hell cold. I get bed rest and two days excused from class." Daria took a seat at her desk. "I'm also supposed to limit contaminating others. Though with you two, I may make an exception"

Jane tossed a wad of paper. "You've already contaminated us. What's to worry about?"

Karen looked over. "Speak for yourself. I've kept myself pure and unpolluted by her foul disease."

Daria tossed the paper wad at Karen and smirked. "That's about the only thing about you that is pure and unpolluted."

Karen gave a look of faux indignation. "I do have to maintain some standards." Returning to her normal face, she pointed to Daria's shelf and said, "Got some mail, including a something from _Literature in Action_."

Daria reached up and retrieved the envelope. She slit it open and removed the February issue from the mailer. About 2/3 down the left side of the cover she read:

**Melody Powers in:  
****Fall of Ice Base Leopard  
****By Daria Morgendorffer**

"I still can't believe a character I cooked up to read at that silly coffee house of Mr. O'Neill's has actually sold. One story in last October's issue, now this one. But then, this pulp magazine isn't exactly the height of quality literature."

Jane rose from her seat on Daria's bed and walked over to take a look. "Life is so rough."

"However, I'm not going to sneeze at five to six hundred dollars per story."

Jane put an arm around Daria's shoulder. "No, you're just sneezing and coughing on everything else."

Daria glared up at Jane.

"Hey, after your compulsive proof-reading, you've seen it enough. I want a peek."

Daria flipped a few pages to the story, so she actually saw the story in print. She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction at getting that far before handing it to Jane. "Go ahead, make sure you let Karen fondle it, we don't want her to feel left out."

Karen scooted across her bed and came up behind Jane, looking over her shoulder. "Can't have that."

Jane had started to slowly page through the magazine and stopped near the front. Grinning, she nudged Karen with her shoulder. "Take a look at the letters column."

Karen read for a few moments, and giggled.

Daria looked at her friends. "What's up?"

Jane presented the open page to Daria. "Look, ain't that cute. You're getting fan letters from your first story."

"You have got to be joking."

Jane straightened up and adopted a formal pose as she read from the magazine. "The espionage action/adventure genre now has a new face and a new attitude."

Karen imitated Jane's pose. "The old gender stereotypes have been broken. I'll forever think of a certain popular character as 'spy gigolo'."

Daria looked a little surprised, and pleased. "Don't let it go to my head. They are probably just letters from regulars that write about every story in the magazine."

Jane shook her head. "Now Daria, don't knock the boys for having good taste."

Karen smirked, "Even if they will brag in the future that they were fans before you became famous."

Daria coughed into her fist. "Sorry. I should be grateful that people are responding to my writing like this. It seems so…"

Jane placed a hand on Daria's shoulder and grinned. "Freakish? Trust me; you'll get to like it."

Karen snickered. "One of the most talented people I've met and you're still uncomfortable with a little honest praise. Might be a reason we like you."

* * *

Looking over at Daria asleep on her bed, Michael Fulton smiled before going back to reading Daria's magazine. He sat next to her in one of the rolling desk chairs, back to the wall and legs stretched out straight. Startled by the ringing telephone on the wall close to his ear, he quickly picked it up. "Hello." 

Confused by the male voice, Helen Morgendorffer said, "Hello? Oh, dear, I'm afraid I must have dialed the wrong number. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Hey, no problem. Stuff happens. Don't worry about it." Michael hung up the phone and looked over, Daria still slept. _Good, it didn't wake her._ The phone rang again and he picked it up before it completed the first tone. "Hello."

Helen was baffled by the voice. "Hello. I'm sorry; I was trying to get the extension for Daria Morgendorffer in room three-sixteen."

"You got it. This is Michael, Daria's boyfriend."

Very suspicious, Helen asked, "Where is Daria?"

"Is this Daria's Mom?

"Yes, it is."

Michael looked over with an evil smirk. "She's right next to me…in her bed."

"Young man, I…Oh my God!"

Michael clamped his mouth shut and squeezed his eyes to suppress laughing.

Daria stirred and opened her eyes. Sleepily, and still hoarse, she said, "Was that the phone?"

Michael placed a hand over the mouthpiece. Struggling to keep a straight face, he said, "I think your mother is jumping to conclusions."

Daria put her glasses on. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Michael handed the phone over. Helen could be heard from the earpiece. "You had better be a responsible young man, or I will have you over a legal barrel so fast it will make your head spin!'

Daria glared at Michael. "Hi, Mom. How are you?"

"Daria! Just what in the hell is going on? I didn't expect to call and find you in bed with your boyfriend. I thought you were going to discuss things with me before making such a decision."

Daria raised an eyebrow, and looked at Michael, who was holding a hand over his mouth to further suppress laughter. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Mom, what brought you to that conclusion?"

"He…he said you were next to him in bed! He must…"

Daria smiled. "…Be sitting in a chair next to the bed. After bringing lunch over for me. While I rest to get over a very common cold. Fully clothed."

"Oh…Oh, dear. You mean, you're not…"

"No."

"But you are two young people, out on your own for the first time, exploring all kinds of different ideas and situations…"

"And are such learning geeks that we wouldn't do something with the potential to interfere with college. I strongly suspect that you and Dad were…um…active by this point in your relationship. No, I don't want confirmation. I can understand how you could make the assumption we have, but we haven't."

Helen calmed down. "Oh, yes, of course Sweetie. I'm sorry. I worry about you." Helen registered another part of Daria's statement. "Cold? You have a cold? Have you seen a doctor? What are you doing about it?"

While Helen was talking, Daria whispered to Michael, "You did that on purpose. You will pay." Returning to a normal voice, she told Helen, "I went to the clinic yesterday. I'm to stay in and rest for three days. The LNP emailed an excuse to my professors for Monday and Tuesday. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, yes. That's good."

"Now that you've had your aerobic exercise for the day, any particular reason you called?"

"We got the copies of your new story in yesterday; I just wanted to congratulate you."

"Thanks, Mom. Mine arrived yesterday also; Karen and Jane had a lot of fun with the letters column."

"The letters column?"

"Seems I've developed a fan base, somewhere out there."

"That's wonderful, Sweetie."

"I have to admit, it was kind of cool. I also noticed the magazine has an online message board, might lurk through it tomorrow."

"Sounds like fun. Just remember to take it easy and get better."

"I will. Since you're on the phone, how are Dad and my alleged sister doing?"

"Jake's been about the…come to think of it, he hasn't been ranting so much about his father lately. Been rather nice."

Daria smiled. _Sounds like hearing those recordings of his father did help._

Helen continued, "Otherwise, about the same. Quinn is still Quinn. She finished trimester exams last week and has been working on her college applications. Sounds like her first choice is still Pepperhill."

"California Dreamin'."

Helen laughed a bit. "Good one. Between last year and this year, her grades have improved enough for her to get in."

"It has a bit of a party reputation, but it really is supposed to be a good school."

"Oh, I'm aware of that."

"I suppose you would be. By the way, how has her tutoring been holding up?"

"I'm pleased she's still at it. From what she says, Kevin has made a little improvement, though his parents' divorce is distracting him. Nasty would be an understatement to describe that mess. It appears there was some grade-fixing going on for athletes. The DA's office has started investigating."

Daria smiled. "You don't say. Athletes at Lawndale were getting by's on their grades. Who would have thought it?"

"That line of sarcasm tells me that it was common knowledge among the students."

"Who ever listens to them?"

"Well, it sounds like they might this time."

"Well, Jane and I aren't going to be heartbroken over it if Li goes down."

"Didn't think you would."

"Any other breaking news from the Lawndale front?"

"That's about it for now."

"Well, thanks for calling, Mom. I should probably get going, I am ignoring my guest."

"That boy gave me an awful start. No wonder you like him. Take care of yourself, Sweetie."

"I will. You take care of yourself."

Daria reached over to hang up the phone and found herself stretched over Michael. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her.

She looked into his eyes. "I hope that is an attempt at groveling. Implying to my mother we were in bed together…"

"Temporary insanity? I couldn't resist? Throw myself on the mercy of the judge?"

"Well, I'll need to come up with a suitable punishment..." She leaned against Michael, and suddenly pulled away just in time to cough. "Dammit."

Michael carefully leaned her back over toward her bed. "As much as I appreciate the thought…"

"…You don't want to be contaminated."

Once Daria was sitting straight on the bed, Michael leaned over toward her. "No, I didn't want to pick you up from the floor if you overbalanced during a coughing fit." He kissed her. "Besides, if you were going to contaminate me, I think it would have happened already."

"Your selfless concern is overwhelming."

"I try." He held up the magazine. "Do I need to be concerned about fan-boys now?"

Daria smiled at him. "I doubt it. I can't see anybody getting that worked up over me or my stories."

* * *

Daria sat at her desk in shorts and t-shirt sleepwear, as Karen prepared to leave for class. Daria turned to her friend and spoke in a clearer, but still congested, voice. "I made a few calls yesterday for my notes, so you don't need to haul my tape recorder around." 

"I wouldn't have minded, but thanks." While settling her back pack in place, Karen coughed. Looking at Daria through narrowed eyes, she said, "This better not be your fault."

"Sorry."

Karen shrugged. "I guess it can't really be helped with how small the room is. But, I will still blame you. See you later."

"Later." Daria checked the clock and spooned out another dose of cough syrup before going back to the computer.

She opened a web browser and typed in the URL for _Literature in Action_. She took her time looking around the website before finally going to the message board. At the top of the current threads, she saw the subject: **Yes! Melody's back!**

"I certainly didn't expect that kind of reaction." She opened the page and found a rather lengthy number of entries, all dated since Friday. Reading through, she discovered that she had developed a small group of fans. These ranged from adolescents drooling over the latest 'tough girl' to feminists fawning over a woman succeeding in a male-dominated arena. A couple even mentioned that the writing was good. Near the bottom of the page, her mood turned sour.

**RealityCheck: I wonder if DM would go out with me?**

**Blademaster: Yeah, right dude. Probably some guy writing with a girls name.**

**nukem2000: I checked around, she is a she. Apparently got in a good jibe at Clinton back in 96 at some school in TX.**

**fullmetaljacket99: According to the DMV, this chick is only 19. How cool is that? Only a couple years older than I am.**

Daria recoiled. "These people checked my DMV records? That's scary."

**commiekiller: I did a net search and found this pic of her at some formal lawyer function. She's hot!  
****Lawndale Sun-Herald – Archives - June1999**

Checking the link, Daria found the Lawndale Sun-Herald photo of her family at the State Bar Association Dinner they attended the previous summer. Helen had been chosen to present an award, so the entire family attended in formal wear, including Daria in an elegant black gown. "This is getting really weird."

**Ladiesman: Look and weep boys, I've got the goods. Here's a color screencap from a TV broadcast of that event, plus a selection other candids of our fair temptress.  
****Feisty - Mysterylady – Revealed**

"Candids?" Daria clicked on the next link. She found an image gallery of her days in Lawndale. Next to a video screen capture of her at the Bar Association dinner, was a photo of her at the Café Lawndale reading, labeled 'The true debut of Melody Powers'. Others included a shot of her graduation speech, getting off the bus in her "Okay to Cry Corral" shirt, sitting with Jane on the knoll outside Lawndale High, plus many others around school.

Reading the full URL of the link, the domain name caught her eye and she said, "Feisty? Damn, I wonder." She hit the home link to Ultrasuave Universe, a site devoted to misguided female worship, merchandising collectables, and an online wasabi gummy fish store. "Upchuck." Daria shivered as she realized that there were three school years of photos displayed. "That SOB had been photographing me since I started at Lawndale High."

**fullmetaljacket99: Dude! Where did you find pics of her in high school?**

**Ladiesman: We went to school together, and I've always had a penchant for photography.**

**commiekiller: You lucky dawg. Got anything juicier?**

**Ladiesman: Are you kidding? I draw the line at risk to life and limb.**

"You've got that right, Upchuck. I'm still considering numerous unpleasant things to do to you, if I had any idea of where you were."

Impatiently staring at the soup warming in the microwave, Daria tapped a pencil on her knee. "That disgusting little vermin. Following me around taking pictures. Who knows how many more he has? Setting up a web page, no less."

Daria opened the microwave door before the finished chime was over, angrily removed the cover from the cardboard cup and began to devour the soup single-mindedly.

"Whoa, what did that cup of soup ever do to you?" Jane's voice called from the door. Her black-haired head poked into the room. "Thought I would make a quick run over during lunch to check on you."

Daria turned to face Jane. "Hey."

"That sounds enthusiastic."

"I'm a little pissed off right now."

"I never would have guessed."

Motioning to the computer monitor, Daria said, "Take a look."

Jane circled the mouse, clearing the screen saver. The gallery page was displayed. Jane looked surprised, and turned to Daria. "What the hell is that?"

"Turns out Upchuck is one of my fans. He did it."

"There's stuff there going back to when we were in tenth grade."

"I'm well aware of that. The little pervert was photographing me almost the entire time I was at Lawndale."

Jane shook her head. "In his own little sick way, he probably thinks he's complimenting you."

Daria began to speak, thought for a moment and sat back in disgust.

"He always did seem to have an eye on you."

"More like a lens. But still…it is creeping me out."

"I can see that. Outside the one video shot, the rest look like something you would find in a high school yearbook. At least he wasn't photographing through your window."

"Don't even think that. Just the idea…"

Jane's eyes widened. "Oh…damn. I'm sorry I mentioned…I'm sure you're safe; your room was on the upper floor."

"Thank goodness for second story bedrooms."

Jane tapped the monitor. "Back to this, how did you find out about it?"

"I checked the _LIA_ message boards. Some of the fans are…um…adolescents with overactive imaginations, particularly when it comes to females. Those guys were…ugh. One pulled my name from DMV records to get my age; another found my picture in the Lawndale paper. To top them, Upchuck decided to brag."

"Are you serious?"

Daria rolled over to her computer and pulled the message board back up. "Take a look."

Jane peered over Daria's shoulder and read the comments. "Upchuck found soulmates. How touching."

Daria scowled in disgust. "Something I wouldn't touch with a twenty-foot pole."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "He has got to be stopped."

"You're right. But how?"

"We need to come up with something, just the two of us."

"Why just us?"

"This is an internal Lawndale problem. Word of this goes out to nobody else in Boston." Jane looked directly at Daria. "Especially Michael. We don't need him trying to break into a museum to steal a gladius."

"Though he does have a birthday coming up…" Daria raised an eyebrow. "You are right, this is an internal matter. We've dealt with Upchuck before."

"So, once again, it's us against Lawndale."

"Once more unto the breach dear friend, once more."

* * *

"Come on in." Daria's voice was noticeably clearer from the weekend. Jane entered the dorm room and looked at the styrofoam soup bowl on Daria's dresser. Sniffing, she went to the bowl and inhaled deeply. "Hmmm... Thai coconut milk soup. Smells like you had lunch brought in today." 

"Michael insisted. Not that I minded all that much. That hit the spot much better than plain chicken soup." Daria smiled.

Jane looked askew at Daria. "How did you survive the spices?"

"He brought over the mild."

"You do have him trained well."

Daria mildly blushed. "I'm not training him."

"Sure. Back to business, do we have plans for his Grossness?"

"I've got a good idea, but we need a post a message online without it being traceable to Boston, or to us." Daria backed away to let Jane read the message she had composed.

Jane whistled. "That is pure twisted. I'm glad you're my friend, and not my enemy. But, I'm sorry, Daria. I really haven't met any of the geeks at the animation or computer graphics studios."

"Actually, I'm thinking we may need an accomplice within Lawndale."

"Daria…"

"I wonder if Lindy will help."

"Lindy?"

"Who else can we reliably get?" She began to raise fingers on one hand. "Quinn would freak out too much. Trent's still protective. But, Lindy's level-headed enough to help. She's a Lawndale State student. If she checks her email at the computer lab and logs off. Then, logs on as a guest, it shouldn't be traceable to her."

"Better let me make the call."

* * *

Lindy looked up from her studying in response to the telephone ringing. She stretched, walked across the Lane residence kitchen to the counter and answered, "Hello." 

Jane spoke. "Hey, Lindy. Is my good-for-nothing brother home?"

"Why do you want to talk to Wind?"

"Not him."

"You said your good-for-nothing brother…"

"Very funny, I wanted to…Wind's home?"

"He crawled in a couple days ago, saying something about waiting for his wife to put the shears away."

"I don't want to know any more…please. What about that brother of mine you seem to have an attachment to?"

"Oh, Trent. I wouldn't exactly call him good-for-nothing..."

"No details!"

Lindy laughed. "Sorry, he's not here. He had an amp blow on him last night. He left about ten minutes ago to take it in for repairs. Knowing how he gets at the music store, he'll be there all afternoon."

"Good. I was hoping to talk to you uninterrupted. Look, can you do me a favor?"

"I'll do what I can."

"Can Daria email you a message for you to post to an anonymous news tip website?"

"Um…okay…Anything I should be worried about?"

"Just a little payback on an old acquaintance."

"And?"

"Can you do it from school?"

"Let me guess, you don't want to be traced."

"Err…yeah."

"We're getting into murky territory here; fill me in before I agree to anything."

"Basically, this will do a roundabout to get the guy on a TOS violation. He…pulled a stunt on Daria that was really not cool. Check the links in the message she sends, you'll understand."

"Tell me straight, will this involve anything illegal?"

"That's the beauty of Morgendorffer revenge. Not a drop of illegality involved. I promise. Daria did learn a few things from her mother."

"Okay, I'll take a look at it. If I think it stinks, the deal is off."

"That's fair, thanks. By the way, how are you holding up running Casa Lane?"

"I'm surviving. Trent is a sweet man, but he does need a keeper."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Moving in has made me appreciate everything you were doing for this place. There aren't many people capable of keeping a household running at fifteen and still go to school."

"We do what we have to. Trent may be God's Own Slacker, but he was always there with the emotional support. I couldn't have made it without him."

"Neither could I."

"Thanks again. Talk to you later."

"Good-bye, Jane."

* * *

Daria held a particularly evil smirk as she emailed the message to Lindy for posting on the SBC "Anonymous Tip Message Center": 

**Hey Folks, did you know imagery from one of your affiliates is used on a stalker's website? LINK I found out about it from the guy bragging here: LINK2 . So, I bet it was taken from your Lawndale station. A lot of the stuff looks like it was shot when the girl was underage. Don't you have lawyers to take care of this kind of thing?**

Daria turned her browser to the Terms of Service page of the _Literature in Action_ website.

The publisher of this magazine is a staunch supporter of intellectual property and copyrights. Supporting, directing, or linking to any website that uses or encourages the illegal or improper use of any copyrighted material will result in immediate suspension of all message board access. Websites illegally using copyrighted material will be reported to their hosting service.

She cringed and opened the offending gallery again. Looking carefully, she found no credit to the TV station for the screen capture on the website, but a small bit of text at the bottom said:

**All material and images copyright Charles Ruttheimer III**

Lindy sat down and logged onto the school computer. She quickly found Daria's email and copied the text to a word processor and saved the file to floppy. She logged off, and back on as a guest. Then she opened the text file and read the message, clicking on the links. "That scummy little…Oh, I'm going to enjoy this."

Charles Ruttheimer III stamped his feet in frustration when his logon was denied to the _Literature in Action_ website for a TOS violation. Annoyed, he went to open his website to check his gummy fish orders. He found a filler page with a notation:

**This website has been temporarily suspended for TOS violations.**

Now angry, he opened his email to find several messages.

**Mr. Ruttheimer,**

**You are ordered to cease and desist from displaying any and all copyrighted material of SBC or any affiliates. Specifically, the screen capture of a broadcast from our KSBC affiliate in Lawndale, MD., displayed on your MysteryLady webpage. A formal court order will be delivered to you tomorrow, 1 March 2000. Information on this material has also been delivered to law enforcement authorities.**

**SBC  
****Legal Affairs

* * *

**

**Mr. Ruttheimer,**

**We have received legal notification that you have improperly claimed copyright for images owned by SBC Corporation. This is a violation of your Terms of Service. Please remove the offending material immediately to have your service reactivated.**

**LawndaleWebHost  
****Administrator

* * *

**

**To whom it may concern:**

**Your account: Ladiesman at Literature in Action discussion forum has been deleted for TOS violation: linking to a website illegally using copyrighted material.**

**Forum Moderator

* * *

**

Daria had a satisfied look on her face as she looked at the blank filler page for the gallery. She looked over her shoulder at Jane. "Well, it looks like things went according to plan. I owe Lindy a good one."

Jane cocked her head and looked thoughtful. "Daria…how many people do you know who routinely tape the evening news?"

"Um, nobody."

"If he didn't have the habit of taping the news, how did Upchuck get a screen capture of something that was only shown once?"

Daria looked annoyed. "That…is a very good question."

* * *

Thanks to the residents of PPMB for comments, ideas, suggestions and other stuff, Isa Yo-Jo, Mahna Mahna, Ranger Thorne, Mike Nassour, Decelaraptor, Steven Galloway, and Kristen Bealer. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Galen Hardesty for beta reading.

September 2004  
Revised February 2005


	14. Can This Be Spring?

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the fourteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Can This Be Spring?**

Jane Lane looked between a notebook, her checkbook, and her bank statement. She scribbled some quick math, scratched her head, and sighed. "No spring break in Daytona Beach this year. Oh, well. I knew it was a long shot." She tore the page from the notebook, wadded it, and threw it over her shoulder. It hit the rim of a trash can before dropping to the floor.

Jane's roommate, CC, looked over from her worktable. She blew her dark blue hair away from her small, oblong-framed glasses. "Looks like the WNBA isn't going to come a'courtin' for you."

Jane looked at the paper, and then at CC. "What are your great plans for spring break?"

"Stay in town. I'll be able to work full-time. One nice thing about Boston is that it doesn't empty during spring break like a college town. I can really use the extra tips."

Jane chuckled. "And the men left in town probably tip more than college students."

"You got that right."

Jane abruptly snickered and began to rapidly sketch. CC walked over to look over Jane's shoulder. "When you get that look…"

"So my Muse is a twisted little cruller."

"Hey, that looks like your friend, Daria."

"She once told me about joking to a bunch of gullible bridesmaids at her cousin's wedding that she was working the same job."

"Bet her boyfriend would like to see that picture."

"I bet he would, too."

"Speaking of boyfriends, I still need to thank her for setting you up with Al."

"I'll let her know. She still feels kind of bad that things didn't work between us."

"So it flopped. If she hadn't set you two up, you wouldn't have palmed him off on me."

"I'm sure that makes him feel so secure."

"He just chalks it up to the out-of-round wheels of fate turning…on a bent axle."

Jane scratched her temple. "That fits him so well. No wonder you two get along."

"Thanks, flattery will still get you brownie points."

"Can I have the brownies instead?"

And, I really appreciate that he doesn't get jealous of me being an exotic dancer."

"I can see where that would make some guys flaky."

"Plus some roommates. Still sorry I waited so long to tell you." CC thought of the three roommates she had gone through in the fall. One was a radical feminist who thought she was degrading myself, one kept wanting CC to get together with her and her boyfriend, and the last was paranoid that some stalker would follow her home. "Kind of got a little gun-shy."

"Don't worry. Like I can complain? We do what we need to." Jane thought of spending the previous fall as a teaching assistant at much-hated Lawndale High, and having to play nice with Principal Li.

"Anyway, back to our original subject. Since going to Daytona is out for you this year, what are your plans for next week?"

"I guess bum around here. Do some paintings, annoy Daria, and annoy you."

"Your friend's not going anywhere?"

"Nope. Said this will be the first chance she will have to play tourist in Boston."

"Oh, boy. Seeing Boston during the early mud season."

Jane grinned. "I think I may have an idea."

"Yesss."

"Indoor beach party. We recruit Nell and Mary next door, so we don't have any fights over the bathroom. Paint some drop cloths to look like a beach, spread them in the rooms and hall. Add a few lounge chairs. Potted palms. Everyone wears swimsuits. Instant beach, without the sand in your crotch."

"I like it, count me in."

Jane scrutinized CC. "Remember, swimsuits, not G-strings."

"Darn."

Jane hopped up and headed through the door to the bathroom shared with the next dorm room. She passed through and knocked on the other door, waited a moment and opened it. Nell Girard looked up from her lower bunk and Mary Kelsey from her work bench.

Jane looked between the two. "You guys doing anything next week?"

Nell said, "Not much, I'm tapped. Sprang for a new airbrush last week. I'll probably play with that."

Mary shook her head. "My folks decided to use the condo next week, so my plans are screwed. Bet they did it just to keep me from using it. What'd you have in mind?"

"You two team up with CC and me for an indoor beach party sometime next week. Stage it between the rooms and the hall out front. Drop cloth sand, tacky props, swimwear, a little Caribbean music."

"Sounds like fun, and no getting my crutches stuck in the sand." Nell replied.

Mary nodded in agreement. "A spring break pity party. That might just hit the spot."

* * *

Daria Morgendorffer stood on the cold sidewalk, dubiously looking at a well-worn door. _CC said this would be safe, not to worry. You don't need to have Michael with, besides, you don't really want to know yet how much he can be distracted. You can do this._ Daria pushed the door open to the entry foyer. Inside, two very large men flanked the opposite door. The one to the left, with the shaved head, matched CC's description of Karl. Daria approached and looked up, realizing he was almost a foot and a half taller. "Um…Karl?"

"Yep."

"Uh…CC called and asked me to come by and meet her after work. Said…she would let you know."

"Hmm. Cute redhead with glasses, you must be Daria."

Daria lightly blushed in surprise. _Cute?_ She allowed herself a brief smile at the compliment. "Oh, yes. I'm Daria."

He looked at his watch. "Follow me; she should be in the dressing room."

Staying close, she followed him along the back and side walls of the club. She kept her eyes fixed on his back and not on the rest of the club. Releasing her breath, she was relieved to find the dressing room door.

Karl spoke into a wall mounted intercom. "CC's guest is here."

The door opened slightly, Daria nodded thanks to Karl and she entered. Daria was relieved to find an almost fully-clothed CC waiting.

CC pulled on some winter overboots and said, "Thanks for coming over. I hope this place isn't too embarrassing for you."

"I would be lying if I said I was comfortable, but you said you wanted to talk about Jane's birthday."

"It was the most secure place I could think of to plot."

"Since her birthday is next Monday, I'll wager you want to sneak something into that party she's planning for Friday."

"That's right."

"I know part of her motivation for this party is to drag me to it, since I will feel obligated to attend. Turning the tables for a birthday bash would only be fair. What's your plan?"

"I would appreciate it if you can take care of the cake, and any associated supplies you may feel are…appropriate."

"Will I retain creative control?"

"You know her better than I do, I will defer to your wisdom."

"I've been waiting three years for this."

* * *

Clad in a robe after her trip to the shower, Karen Myerson entered the dorm room. She looked in surprise at her roommate, Daria, already dressed in a blue, one-piece swimsuit. "You look nice in that."

"Thanks." Daria pulled on pair of pants.

Karen removed a yellow and white one-piece swimsuit from her dresser. "Hell, I hope this thing still fits."

Daria pulled on a sweater. "Well, if it doesn't, I'm sure we can run by a mall to find a new one."

"With our two pet Y chromosomes in tow? Not a chance. I'll go by myself."

"Better hurry, the RA desk called that yours is on his way up."

Karen was still changing when a knock was heard on the door. Daria went to the door and looked through the peephole. She smiled and called through the door. "Derek, you'll have to wait until Karen's dressed."

Derek's voiced called through the door, "Ah…no peepshow?"

"Sure, and then we gouge your eyes out with a grapefruit spoon."

"Hmm. In that case, I think I'll wait."

Derek Adler unbuttoned his 1970's era army winter overcoat and leaned back against the wall. After a minute, he noticed a red-headed man in a camouflage jacket exit the elevator and walk toward him. "Hey, Michael."

Michael Fulton said, "Evening, Derek. We're waiting?"

"Yup."

"That's odd."

"Karen is getting dressed; I bet she ran late at work. They've been shorthanded lately with flu season in full force."

"Ah."

Derek chuckled slightly. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

Michael joined the laugh. "Like neither of us has been late before."

Derek moved his hand to his eyebrow in a salute. "Here's to unconventional ladies."

"And the lucky gits who date them."

The room door opened to reveal Daria and Karen dressed to face the late winter chill. Daria, holding a paper bag, turned to Karen. "Looks like they can behave unattended."

Karen looked sideways at the two young men. "We need to get each a cookie."

Derek put his arm around Karen. "Peanut butter?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you insist. Though I reserve the right to withhold it until you drop me off tonight. That is, unless you don't want me to kiss your peanut butter breath."

Derek kissed her. "Hmmm. Cookie later, definitely."

Daria took Michael's hand. "So, what kind of cookie should I find for you?"

Michael placed his free hand on her shoulder and drew her into a kiss. "Can I hold off and trade it in for forgiveness the next time I put my foot in my mouth?"

Daria returned the kiss. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, let's go down and wait for the cab. I'm not going to try to get to the bakery on the bus, and then carry it to BFAC."

Michael looked around. "Four is going to be a tight fit in a cab."

Karen looked at Daria. "You're small; you can sit in his lap."

Michael smiled. Daria looked at him, and then glared at Karen. "You're giving him ideas. Besides, I already thought of that. I called a company that uses minivans: room enough for all four, plus the cake and goodies."

With a look of mild disappointment, Michael said, "Well, then. We better get going."

* * *

Jane stood near the elevator door in a red and black two-piece bikini and suspiciously watched Daria emerging. "Okay, Missy. Just what's in that box…?"

"Your worst nightmare." Daria moved to the nearby hall in front of Jane's dorm room. Michael, Karen and Derek followed, a little wet from the late-winter storm beginning outside. Besides Jane, CC, Mary and Nell milled around with several other BFAC students that Daria didn't recognize, all dressed in swimwear. The floor was covered with muslin drop cloths, which looked like beach sand with bits of seaweed, small crabs and other assorted beach-like decorations painted on. Six lounge chairs were scattered around, several plastic potted palms, and a table covered with munchies. Daria set the box on the table. Michael set a paper bag down under the table. Daria asked, "Where do we change?"

Jane pointed to her room. "There and the bathroom, according to any modesty standards you bring with you."

The four new arrivals walked into Jane and CC's room. Daria spoke, "Okay guys, don't get any ideas, Karen and I have our swimsuits on under the street clothes." Cautiously, she began to remove her shirt.

Derek shrugged, "Looks like we all had the same idea."

Karen's suit did fit, the yellow and white pattern worked well and the low-cut back was a surprise. Derek wore cutoff cargo pants. He smiled at Karen. "Well worth the wait."

Michael stood in green shorts, staring at Daria like an inmate caught in a searchlight. When she looked uncomfortable, he shook his head. "Sorry, I…" He looked at the floor.

Daria put her hands on his waist and looked into his face. After calming herself, she said, "Like what you see?"

He nodded. Daria softly kissed him and whispered, "Thank you."

The four exited the room, and Daria went straight to the box she had left on the table. The cake within was decorated with four individual line drawings of Jane, done in an Andy Warhol style of assorted, bright colors. Daria pulled a small lighter from the paper bag and lit nineteen candles on the cake. Michael removed a small CD player from the bag. Daria turned to him and nodded, "Now."

Michael pushed the play button, starting a recording of Mystik Spiral playing the song Jane's brother, Trent, had written for her birthday a couple years earlier.

_Little sister, little sister you came into my life like a twister.  
__What can I get you that you haven't taken?  
__What can I get you that hasn't been killed by corruption and greed?  
__What can I get you that isn't tie-dyed or like what you already have,  
__or plastic or not alive or so sad?  
__Does anybody know, does anybody know why we're here?  
__Does anybody know, does anybody know why we're here?  
__Does anybody know, does anybody know why we're here?_

Daria smirked at Jane. "I thought you deserved not to hear my singing. Now blow out the stupid candles."

Jane's eyes tried to pierce Daria. "You know my opinion of birthday parties."

Daria's eyes pierced back, a slim smile on her lips. "You threw the party, besides, I can't take all the blame, I did get recruited by CC, who also came up with the cake design, and Trent made the CD."

"I'll add them to the list."

"You don't get your presents until you deal with the candles."

Jane's eyes widened and she smiled. "Presents?" She quickly blew over the candles to extinguish them.

Wearing a blue bikini with a reptile-scale print, CC approached. ""Daria, I thought you said Jane's brother liked her. That was awful."

Daria turned in time to notice CC's wink. She smirked back. "Of course it was; that's classic Mystik Spiral."

Jane laughed. "CC, why do you think I don't run screaming in fear from your horrible singing?"

A lanky young man came up behind CC and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Happy birthday, Jane."

Jane nodded to the newcomer. "Thanks, Al." Jane turned to face the general crowd. "Okay, it looks like my best friend, my roommate, and my slacker brother conspired to hijack my party into a birthday party." Jane shuffled her feet. "Um…thanks everyone."

Daria handed Jane a small box. Jane opened it and found a gift certificate to Axel's Piercing Parlor for one naval piercing. Daria smiled. "I figured I owed you one."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "This is getting even for spilling the beans about that to Michael, isn't it?"

"Would I do anything like that?"

"Without hesitation or a hint of remorse."

Daria produced a larger box from the bag. "You know me too well. Now the real one."

Jane accepted the much heavier box and proceeded to unwrap it. Inside was a set of small stone-cutting chisels. Jane looked up and smiled. "Cool! You can never have too many art supplies."

* * *

Daria was intrigued. She felt less stressed than she ever had in her life about wearing a revealing, for her, swimsuit. The mixture of her friends from Raft and Jane's acquaintances from BFAC were nonjudgmental and accepting. Most oddly, she was quietly glad that Michael found her appearance pleasing. Parties like this would never be her favorite pastime, but this was the most tolerable one she had ever been to.

Jane's voice could be heard from within a group of three young men. "No shit, I was there! It was a bunch of fake spears sticking out of the base like french fries from a fast food container, with a couple of paper plates stuck on the ends. He kept a straight face through the whole delivery."

A student with platinum blond hair in a pony tail down to the small of his back said, "I saw a write-up about that guy in one of the art magazines. What a goob."

Another with brown hair and mustache chimed in. "No wonder artists get such reputations for selling crap."

The last also had brown hair, but on the left side of his head. "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance…"

Daria smiled to hear Jane joking about her stay at the Ashfield Art Colony after their junior year of high school. _She's always had a hard time talking about that. Good to know that is changing._ Daria walked up next to Jane and nodded at the boys. "Joey, Jeffy, Jamie. How are you doing?"

The three men gave Daria an odd look. Jane laughed loudly and went into an imitation of Daria's sister, Quinn. "Mo-om! Daria's trying to ruin my life again."

Daria gave Jane a look of surprise. "That sounded way too real."

Jane smirked. "Hey, between dealing with her an hour a day in study hall and the time we spent together making sure Trent and Lindy didn't end up a train wreck, I got a good idea of how she sounds." Jane upended a glass containing a pale green liquid and a speckling of white salt grains around the rim. "Ahh. My first illegal act as a college student, I feel better now."

"Let me know what the hangover feels like."

"Dammit, that sucks." Nell stood nearby, weight resting on one elbow crutch, the second crutch looped around her arm and a half-spilled glass in that hand. Mary rushed up to grab the glass. Nell waved her away. "I need to figure out how to maneuver at parties if I'm ever to be invited to them. But, thanks."

Mary looked down. "Oops. Didn't mean anything."

Nell shook her head and smiled. "I know. I got a little cranky about wearing half a glass. Damn drinking problem."

Mary laughed. "Let me at least go get something to clean that stuff off your leg before it gets sticky."

"Then you don't think it'll work to stick a single guy to me?"

"Leaving the conversation now." Daria picked up a soda and walked back toward her lounge chair. Michael and Derek were sitting in two nearby chairs, deep in conversation. Karen was at a fourth chair. Daria pulled hers next to Karen. "Jane's fired-up and off to the races. What are our geek boys talking about now?"

"Whether or not the Roman twenty-year army enlistments would be a good idea for a modern army."

Daria rolled her eyes. "You realize that stuff like that is the price we pay for guys that can tolerate us?"

Karen raised her soda can in a toast. "Sure beats the hell out of them talking football."

Daria returned the gesture. "Here, here."

A few minutes later, Al had joined Derek and Michael's conversation. CC leaned against the wall between Daria and Karen. "Doesn't seem to matter which part of the gene pool you grab them from, they'll find some testosterone-laced subject to blather on about."

Daria looked over the more animated conversation between the three men. "Are they still on about Roman enlistments?"

CC shook her head. "Something about Saracen damascus blades versus Japanese katanas."

Daria rubbed her temples. "I had to ask."

Karen looked at CC. "Er…changing the subject. I hope you don't mind my asking, but…"

CC shook her head. "I've gotten over that. I needed steady, good paying work with flexible hours to get through school."

Growing up an army brat, CC couldn't avoid seeing the clubs outside of bases. Using her old dance lessons, so it kind of made sense.

"Isn't it a little dangerous?"

"Where I work has a very strict hands-off policy. Daria met Karl: it is brutally enforced."

"I would die of embarrassment…"

CC chuckled. "It does require a certain mindset. Plus, I just don't let myself see the audience. That gets easier once I remove my glasses."

Daria cocked her head. "Once you remove them?"

CC smirked. "The concept is to draw the process out as you slowly removed each item. You can do some interesting things with a pair of glasses. I could show you."

Blushing, Daria said, "Um…no thanks."

"I'll leave the offer open."

Karen inquired, "How…what do your parents think about what you do?"

CC turned and looked a little more serious. "My dad's not entirely happy about it, but he accepts that I made the decision."

"What about your mom?"

CC's eyes lowered. "Um…she died nine years ago."

"Damn. Me and my big mouth, I'm sorry."

"No big, you couldn't know."

* * *

Seeking a little respite from the party, Daria went into Jane's room. _Still not totally the party girl, eh Morgendorffer?_ She looked at the freezing rain pounding against the window, and realized she couldn't see across the street. After spotting CC's portable television, she turned it on to find a news announcer saying, "…winter storm is stronger than expected, with sustained winds of forty to fifty miles per hour and heavy, freezing rain. Emergency management officials are strongly recommending Boston residents avoid travel until the storm passes tomorrow morning. Due to hazardous road conditions, city bus service has been suspended. More updates as they become available."

Daria went out to the small crowd and spoke loudly. "Hey, we have a bit of a problem here."

Everyone turned to look at her. Daria continued. "Well, those of us that don't live at BFAC do. The storm out there has the streets closed down. We're stuck until it passes tomorrow morning."

Jane looked around, slightly unsteady. "You can use the lounge chairs. Scrounging up some sheets and blankets shouldn't be a problem. So, don't worry."

CC put her arms around Al's waist. "I don't mind sharing my bunk." Quickly, she added, "Don't worry, we won't do anything. I'm not that much of an exhibitionist."

Jane rubbed her hands together. "That makes it easy then, one pair for Daria and Michael, another for Karen and Derek. We can fit them in here, just be a little tight."

Daria scanned the room and mentally calculated the dimensions. "Only if you put the lounge chairs next to each other."

"Jane clapped a hand on Daria's shoulder. "Hey, it'll finally be your chance to sleep with Michael."

Daria shook her head at Jane's remark. "Funny. Uh, you're only going to fit two in each room. Mary, Nell, do you have a problem with guests?"

Nell shook her head. "Not as long as they don't get between me and the bathroom."

Mary shrugged. "I suppose not. If I can share a bathroom with Jane and CC, I can deal with anybody."

CC shot her a look. "Hey, we haven't violated the Clean Air Act in there."

"Just because I like my lavender body wash."

"Do you have to use it by the metric ton?"

"Hrumph. Some people just don't have any taste."

Jane leaned over and whispered to Daria and Michael. "Trust me; you want to get in there before she hits the shower."

Michael leaned over. 'Thanks for the tip."

* * *

The party dwindled as sheets, blankets and pillows were located for the five orphaned Raft students. CC ran downstairs to the vending machines, returning with five toothbrushes. By about 2 AM, the party was over and cleaned up. Daria stood next to the pair of lounge chairs, flattened like beds and shoehorned into Jane's room. Mismatched sheets and blankets were spread on each. She looked down at the black v-neck shirt and grey shorts she wore. "Thanks for letting me borrow something to sleep in, Jane."

Jane squeezed past toward her upper bunk. "Too bad I didn't bring Grandma's nightgown with."

Daria smiled as she remembered being embarrassed to be seen in it by Trent. "Yeah, too bad."

Jane did a double-take at Daria. "What?"

"Gotcha."

"You…Oh, never mind."

Daria moved close to Jane and quietly said, "Jane, are you comfortable with Michael and I here? With CC and Al here, too?"

"Why not? It's not like I'm going to get a free show out of any of you guys."

"I meant, that you will be…by yourself."

Jane smiled and shook her head. "Daria, I'm fine. I had a great time." She chuckled. "Now don't hit me, but I kind of did feel like Quinn tonight."

"Those three guys…"

"Yeah. It was nice, and great for the old ego."

Daria stared at Jane.

"Trust me, they will not turn into something like that trio of morons that plagued your sister. They each have way too big of an ego to put up with the way Quinn used to act. They like me, and want to see me as a friend. I want that, too."

"Okay, you had me worried for a second."

"Share and enjoy."

Daria sighed. "Fine, my turn."

"I caught CC earlier. Now it's your turn. Thanks for the birthday bit. Sometimes, it is good that you don't listen to your friends very well."

"When did I start?"

"Argh. Can't you take a compliment?"

"Sorry. I was happy to help with doing something for your birthday, and I'm glad you had a good time."

CC entered the room, and looked around. "To hell with it." She crawled across the chairs instead of trying to fit around the edge. Al followed behind her. They both sat on the edge of CC's lower bunk.

Michael was the last to enter. Like Al, he was still wearing the same shorts he had on earlier. Jane crawled up into her bunk. She called over, "Get the light, will you?"

Daria looked around the nearby furnishings and removed her glasses. She placed them on a dresser and carefully moved to one of the chairs. Michael turned off the light and moved to the remaining chair. He removed his glasses and started to reach for a nonexistent nightstand. "Dammit." He felt his way to the dresser and set his next to Daria's before returning.

Daria said, "If anyone even tries to start a 'Good night John-Boy' routine, they die."

Jane turned on her radio to a low volume to drown out any whispered conversations

Daria pulled the sheet over her and looked up at the ceiling. Nervously, she was aware of Michael settling in beside her. After a moment, she felt his right hand softly rest on her stomach. She turned her head to dimly see his face maybe six inches away. Almost without thought, she moved her left hand up to her stomach to hold his.

Michael whispered, "I was hoping you wouldn't mind."

Daria's whispered response was, "Nervous about, yes. Mind, no."

"I promise to behave."

"I know you will. I…I'm…this…making a big leap of trust. I've never let somebody get this close. Letting my guard down completely to sleep."

"You've fallen asleep on my shoulder before, and when I stayed with you when you had that cold."

"That was me succumbing to fatigue and…how comfortable I feel around you. This is different."

"Because you're doing this intentionally."

"Um. Right."

"At least I'll know I didn't bore you this time."

Daria gently laughed. "Good one. Hmm. I notice a small twitch in your hand."

"Okay, so I'm nervous, too."

"I promise to behave."

"I know you will, too. It's…look, if…after I fall asleep, my hand drifts anywhere when…just move it away…please?"

"Deal. Do you move about a lot in your sleep?"

"Uh…no…not often…but…"

"But?"

"Sometimes…crap…" Michael was silently relieved the darkness hid his blush. "Sometimes…I dream…"

"Dreaming is a natural consequence of REM sleep."

"I dream about you."

Feeling weird and flattered, Daria said, "Oh?"

"I…well…this is embarrassing."

"Please, don't tell me I'm wearing spandex in your dreams."

"Uh…no."

"Or black leather."

"N…no. Normal clothes, usually."

Daria released her breath. "Good." She moved closer and kissed him. A thought crossed her mind and she narrowed her eyes. "Usually?"

Michael closed his eyes in grim anticipation. _Can't keep your big mouth shut. Hope you like the floor._ "Can I trade in that cookie now?"

"That was only if you put your foot in…" Daria's mind began to link his words. _"…my hand drifts anywhere when…I dream about you…Normal clothes, usually."_ Her eyes popped open wide and she felt the warmth of a deep flush on her face. "You dream about…"

Michael could feel Daria tense up immensely. "Shoot. I'm sorry. Look, I'll slide over and try to separate the chairs." He started to raise his hand. Daria lightly held it in place, and raised her right hand, placing it on his outstretched arm.

She looked directly into his eyes. "You…you don't plan on acting on these dreams any time soon?"

"N...no. But, I can't help what I dream…"

Gulping back her own nervousness, Daria shushed him. "You are an eighteen year-old male with what I presume is something like a normal libido. It…" Daria took a deep breath to calm down. "…it is logical you mind would use…me in such dreams."

Michael slowly nodded.

"I've spent my whole life avoiding being thought of as a sex object in any way."

"I know you don't want to be thought of like that…that is not…I…aw…crap."

"I will deny ever saying this. I appreciated you liking me in the swimsuit. I'm kind of…flattered…about your dreams."

Michael sighed in relief.

Daria continued with a little sternness in her voice, "But, I trust you to not act on them."

"I understand."

"Good, now please stay." She squeezed his hand.

Michael nudged forward and kissed her. "Good night."

"Good night. I hope you don't snore."

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Good, that would get you thrown on the floor."

Michael softly laughed and closed his eyes.

* * *

Jane moaned at the developing headache. She reached over and turned off the radio. _Shut up you evil bastard._ She slid down from the bed to the floor. CC and Al were cuddled closely together in her bed. Jane moved carefully past the chairs supporting Daria and Michael. Daria was asleep on her back, as usual. Michael on his side, with one arm draped across her, Daria's hand held over his wrist. _That arm is resting a little high. If Daria were awake, she would probably freak._

Jane continued quietly past them to the bathroom. She gulped down some aspirin and a large glass of water. Returning to the room, she smiled as she passed Daria again. _Happiness still looks good on you._ Michael muttered something incomprehensible and smiled. Jane grinned wider and climbed into her bed. She looked down at her friend and quietly said, "I'm glad you found someone again. I hope you understand that I will be happier acting more Quinn-like for a while, enjoying light, fun dates with the guys around here. Nothing serious. I want to paint, dance and be a little irresponsible. Real life is going to be staring us in the face way too soon. I had to grow up too fast in Lawndale. I want to play, just a little while longer."

* * *

Daylight illuminated the room as Daria awoke with a start to realize that a hand was resting on her breast. Her tension lessened as she noticed her hand held the other. She turned her head to see Michael asleep beside her, his face slightly distorted by the pillow. Near his open mouth was what looked like a small spot of drool on the pillow. _Nobody's perfect._

She lightly smiled and watched him for a few minutes. Gently, she removed his hand and crawled off the chair. After locating her glasses and clothes, she walked to the bathroom. "Jane, I really envy you having a bathroom next door, instead of a hundred feet down the hall."

Dressed and feeling less stiff, she navigated to the window. The view across the street was impressive: the BFAC campus glittering under a shell of ice in the morning sunlight. Traffic was moving on the streets. "Good, we can get home now." She turned and leaned back against the window and looked at the sleepers in the room. "What a difference from Lawndale and Highland. Quinn was right a year ago, I have found good friends in college."

A soft knock on the door woke up Michael. He stumbled to the door without his glasses and answered.

Karen and Derek were at the door, already dressed. Karen said, "I know it's early, but I've got to get to the zoo. We'll grab some breakfast at a pancake house on the way over to Raft. I can do a quick change and still be at work on time."

Daria folded the chairs to clear a better walkway to the door. "Is it that late already? Have a good day."

"Later, Daria, Michael."

After the door closed, Daria put her arms around Michael's neck and pulled him down for a soft kiss. "Good morning. Why don't we get you dressed so we can get going? I'm not waiting until this afternoon for Jane to wake up. We can leave her a note."

"No problem." Michael grabbed his glasses and moved to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he returned and quickly pulled his winter clothes over his shorts.

While waiting, Daria wrote out a note and left it on Jane's work desk. She then helped Michael fold the chairs and bed linens. Complete, they quietly left the room and proceeded to wait for the elevator. Michael held Daria close. "I hope you didn't have to move my hand any last night."

Daria smiled and looked up into his eyes. "Not at all, your hands didn't go anywhere I didn't want them."

* * *

Lyrics for _Little Siste_r from _Pierce Me_ by Neena Beber

Thanks to renfield1969, Mahna Mahna, Kristen Bealer, Mike Nassour, Isa Yo-Jo, ipswichfan, Ranger Thorne, milderbeast, Decelaraptor, and Steven Galloway of PPMB for the usual round of comments, jokes, suggestions and kicks in the rear.

Thanks to ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

Note:

September 2004.  
Revised February 2005


	15. The Spirals are Coming!

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the fifteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**The Spirals Are Coming!**

Trent Lane scanned the living room of his home for anything he had missed. At his feet were a small brown suitcase and a gray gym bag. His girlfriend, Lindy Weaver, waited next to him. He took her hands. "Looks like everything's ready. Wow, a gig in Boston."

Lindy squeezed his hands. "I hope the band has some good exposure from it. You can get a lot of word-of-mouth advertising from a college concert."

"Can't believe how much they're paying us. We can afford a hotel room for both nights and still have take-home."

"Thank God. I worry about some of the places you guys end up sleeping on these trips."

"Man, I owe Daria for this."

"That was thoughtful of her to suggest Mystik Spiral for Raft's spring concert series."

"But, I don't get how their student government can pay us so much for a free concert."

Lindy snorted. "You need to see how much schools charge students each year for 'activity fees'. Plus, they probably will get a kickback from the concessions."

"Still."

"Trent, you also need to face up to things. Pay for bands around here sucks. I bet they're underpaying you by Boston standards."

"I hope we don't suck up there."

Lindy winked at him. "You always do, but they'll like you anyway."

"Hey!"

A car horn outside made Trent turn his head and yell out the partially open door. "Hang on, Jess! I'll be out in a minute." Trent turned back to Lindy. "I better get going."

She pulled an envelope from her purse and put it in his jacket pocket. "This is the last of my student loan money. Keep it for emergencies. But, I will need any unused back."

Trent nodded. "Um, yeah. Emergencies."

Lindy narrowed her eyes. "Trent, I mean it. If it is not an emergency, you don't use it. And, don't tell any of them. Not Max, not Nick, and for damn sure, not Jesse."

"Sure, Lindy."

"Trent, this is the only emergency cash I have left. I'll do okay through graduation if nothing goes wrong, but I would really like to have as much of that back as possible, in case I do have an emergency."

Trent picked up the gym bag. He opened it and placed the envelope inside. "I promise, not a word, and they'll never look for money in my sock bag."

"Okay, nobody with a functioning nose will look in there." Lindy grinned, kissed him, and looked on with concern. "I wish you had something safer than that wretched van to travel in."

"Hey, the Tank's indestructible."

"Maybe, but you're not. That thing doesn't have seat belts. Hell, it only has two seats."

"Hmm. You know, we've been meaning to get a new seat in that thing."

"For how long?"

"I think we started talking about it before Jess and I went to Alternapalooza."

"That was over three years ago."

"Whoa, really?"

Lindy shook her head. "Yes, really."

"I think we should get a little more serious about finding one."

"You think? Now, you better get going; the band's getting restless."

"Yeah. Look, Lindy, we're going to be all right. Don't worry." He held her close and kissed her. "We should be back sometime Sunday afternoon."

"Okay, but I'm still going to worry."

Trent kissed her again. "Hey, might be why I like you. You really do worry about me."

"Yes, I do."

"Thanks, later."

"Bye."

Lindy watched Trent climb into the passenger seat of the Tank and the vehicle trundle away. "Please be safe."

* * *

Lindy relaxed on one of the sofa sections in the Morgendorffer living room. She spoke to Quinn, approaching from the kitchen with two drinks. "How does the home stretch of high school feel?"

"There is so much going on. God, no wonder Daria got so cranky at times."

Lindy gave a soft laugh and accepted her drink. "Any word yet on your colleges?"

"I've been accepted at my safety, U-Maryland, but still haven't heard from Pepperhill."

"Still looking at Malibu beach houses?"

"I wish. If I get in, it's going to be the dorm first year. Mom and Dad said if I wanted help with a car, I'd have to stay in the dorm. You can't get around southern California without a car, so…"

"At least you'll get a car out of the deal. Knowing your folks, a decent one."

"I hope."

"I wish I could get Trent and the band into some decent wheels. I'm scared to death about them driving that van to Boston."

"Eww. The Tank?"

"Yeah."

"How do they expect to make a good impression when they show up in that…thing?"

"There are times when I want to know how they expect to simply show up in that thing."

"Anything you can do about it?"

"Not now. I'm in the home stretch, too. I'll finally finish Lawndale State in May. I hope I can find a better paying job pretty soon after that, to help pay off all my student loans. It's a good thing that the Lanes aren't charging me any for rent."

"How is that going?"

"I'm glad I moved in. Being with Trent all the time is wonderful, though he can be a handful. Brain like a steel sieve. Amanda seems to have taken a liking to me, though she spends most of her time in the bomb shelter. She's a sweet lady, but I can see where Trent gets some of his spaciness."

"It sounds like things are good."

"Pretty much. As for the rest, Vincent, I've only seen him that one week. Wind was in and out, Summer and Penny I've only talked to on the phone."

"What about Jane?"

"It sounds like she's adapting well to college life. I burned a music CD for her of the band playing a song Trent had written for her a couple years ago." Lindy looked mischievous. "Get this: your sister helped set up a birthday party for Jane."

"No! Daria...planning a party?"

"To be fair, I don't think she would do that for anyone but Jane."

"I know, but…wow…I'm still glad to hear of her doing it."

"Jane told me that they had an ice storm that night. Daria and her boyfriend had to spend the night in Jane's room. She said they made a cute couple sleeping together."

Quinn's face registered shock. "They slept together? Ewww! In front of Jane! Ewww!"

Lindy chuckled. "Get your mind out of the gutter. They had a couple of beach chairs crammed into Jane's room. Sleep is all they did."

Quinn recovered her composure. "Okay, sorry. She's my sister and the idea…" Quinn shuddered briefly. "However, letting that slip to Mom could divert attention from a major purchase…" Quinn smiled angelically.

"Quinn, you do have an evil streak in you."

"All's fair in fashion and war."

* * *

Ms. Carolyn Poole looked at her patient, Daria Morgendorffer, resting on the reclining chair. The young woman had made tremendous progress in the prior five months. While it would be doubtful the pretty young woman would show off her appearance, she had learned not to avoid it.

Daria was speaking: "When I realized what Michael was trying to say he was dreaming about, it felt like I almost froze solid."

"Continue, Daria."

"But, I knew that what he was saying wasn't exactly the same. It wasn't that he was attracted to me because he considered me of…sexual interest. His sexual interest was a result of his attraction to me."

Ms. Poole placed her pad down and smiled. "That is one of the reasons you are so intriguing to work with. Few can see such a subtle difference, particularly when they are facing something that disturbs them."

"Uh, thanks."

"Go on."

Daria began to blush. "Plus…well…I've had dreams about him, too. I'd be a hypocrite to hold it against him when my own mind was doing the same thing to me."

"Your ethics again do you justice."

"So I calmed myself and told him that I understood. As long as he didn't plan on acting them out, it was okay. I even told him that I appreciated the thought a little."

Ms. Poole nodded and wrote before stating, "Your previous relationship with Tom lasted a year. The subject of sex had to have come up during that time."

"The subject first came up when he…" Daria began to blush again. "…slid his hand under my shirt while we were kissing. It felt…wrong. I told him to stop. We talked and agreed not to push too far. Very much to Tom's credit, he scrupulously kept his word."

"You said first…"

"When the subject came up again, I realized that it was a level of intimacy that I was nowhere near ready for. While I liked Tom a lot, I would never be comfortable with him that way."

"What about Michael?"

"I feel completely different. When I woke up the next morning, I was holding his hand against my breast. I was startled, but…not upset. I left it there while I looked at him sleeping, only moving it away when I got up. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not ready, and I didn't tell him where his hand ended up. But…with him, it doesn't feel wrong; just, not the right time."

"Sounds like your feelings for him are stronger."

"I think you're right." Daria noticed her watch. "Look, do you mind if I cut out a bit early? I'm expecting Jane's brother and his band to show up for tomorrow's Concert on the Quad."

"I think you did fine today. Go take care of your friends."

Walking down the corridor from Ms. Poole's office, Daria contemplated her visits. _After quacks like Ms. Manson at Lawndale High, who would have thought I'd see a therapist on my own? _Daria looked over her shoulder toward the recently exited room. _I'm glad I let reason rule over my gut reaction._

* * *

Max grumbled behind the steering wheel of the Tank. "Dammit, you're supposed to be navigating. What do you mean, that was our turn?"

Trent replied from the passenger seat, "Hey, man. I can't help it these crazy traffic circles are so weird. Just go around again."

"Easy for you to say. I thought you'd been to this place before?"

"I dropped Daria off at her dorm; I didn't go to Parking Services."

"So, it shouldn't be that hard."

"Yeah, but those one-way streets make it a pain. Hey, turn at that brown building with the green awning. Now!"

"Um…yeah." Max made the turn at an excess speed, resulting in a sickening lean.

Jesse yelled from the back, "Nick, get off me!"

Nick rolled back to the other side of the van. "Sorry."

Max looked over at Trent. "Why are we getting lost instead of just going to Daria's place?"

Trent rolled his eyes. "We need a parking permit. Daria says that they get into towing cars around here."

"So, we're criminales; we don't worry about those kinds of rules."

"I'm not blowing my take-home on getting this out of impound. Again."

"We bust it out…that's what criminales do."

Trent pointed out the window. "Park at the 'visitors' sign."

Max pulled into the space and stopped the van. Trent grabbed a sheet of paper from the dashboard and said over his shoulder as he got out, "Back in bit."

About ten minutes later, Trent returned and hung a paper permit from the rearview mirror. "Cool, we're good through the weekend. They also cut a deal at the hotel across the street; we should check it out."

Max looked around the van. "Are you sure that's a good idea? How are we gonna keep an eye on our stuff?"

Trent scratched his chin. "Ah, man. You got a point. One of these days, we got to fix the locks."

Jesse crawled forward. "I could use a burger."

Trent nodded. "Now that you mention it, I could eat. We'll head over to Daria's, she'll know someplace."

* * *

Karen Myerson opened the door and smiled at the four scruffy-looking men in the hallway. "Daria's not back from work yet. Why don't ya'll come in and have a seat. I'm Karen, Daria's roommate."

Trent led the way in. "Hey, I'm Trent." He pointed at each member of the band in turn. "Jesse, Nick, and Max."

"After all the talk, it's nice to see you on the hoof."

Jesse grinned. "Band on the Hoof."

Trent shook his head. "Jesse's still trying to come up with a new name for the band."

Karen closed the door. "We've only got the two chairs, so either pull up one of them, the floor or Daria's bed."

Trent leaned against the dresser next to the square of padding Daria had salvaged from her old bedroom in Lawndale. "Been sitting for seven hours. Think I'll stand."

Jesse and Nick both grabbed a chair each. Nick said, "Finally, something decent to sit on."

Max looked around grumpily. "Guess I'll take the floor," and plopped down next to Karen's closet.

Karen sat back on her bed. "Did you guys have any trouble getting here?"

Max snarled, "Besides Trent getting us lost?"

"Hey, you try to figure out those traffic circles."

Karen held up her hands to calm them. "They say the streets of this town were laid out by a drunk following a demented cow. Don't worry about getting lost your first trip."

Jesse looked at the small refrigerator. "Like, you got anything to eat?"

Karen looked at all four cautiously. "I doubt if we have enough for all four of you. Daria should be back soon. We can run over to the Buffet Raft for dinner. It's a close walk, and all-you-can-eat."

Jesse grinned. "Cool."

The door opened and Daria's voice could be heard. "The whole floor has already heard that we have four guys in our room." She finished entering and closed the door. "Hey, everyone."

Jesse, Nick and Max all said, "Hi, Daria."

Trent levered himself up and gave her a brief, brotherly hug. "Daria. Are you keeping Janey out of trouble?"

Daria gave him a hug back. "Like there is anybody who could do that?"

Karen got up again. "Daria, the band was starting to eye the fridge. I suggested the buffet."

Daria eyed the band. "Good thinking. Okay guys, I want to change. Out into the hall for a few minutes. Trent, you want Karen to give Jane a call to meet us?"

Trent nodded. "Good thinking."

* * *

All six were clustered around a large table in the buffet restaurant. Jesse, Max and Nick were devouring their way through a third plate each. Trent was maintaining the conversation with Daria and Karen. "At least one of us needs to stay with the Tank. We can't keep it parked next to a police car all night."

Daria rubbed her neck. "I better not regret this. Haul your gear up to our room for the night. We're right on the quad; you won't have to carry it that far tomorrow. Then, you four get into the hotel."

Trent said, "Thanks."

Jane Lane entered the restaurant and made a direct line for them. "Greetings! Oh brother of mine!" She pulled Trent out of his chair and hugged him.

"Hey, Janey"

Mumbles and grunts from the rest of the band also greeted Jane.

Jane waved at them and said, "Excuse me, a shot at some real food instead of that stuff at the BFAC cafeteria." Jane returned within a couple of minutes with a plate. "So kids, ready for your gig in the big city?"

Max pumped his fist. "We're ready to kick butt."

Jesse added, "It'll be cool."

Daria interrupted. "Jane, can you give us a hand carrying their gear to our room?"

Jane looked at Trent. "Still no locks on the Tank?"

He nodded. "I think we need to get serious about some new ones."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "You need to get serious about finding a new van."

Max placed both hands on the table. "Hey, don't diss the Tank."

Jane looked Max straight in the eye. "Do you still have hot glue holding the vacuum lines together?"

"Um…er…yeah."

"I rest my case."

Daria looked at Trent. "I bet you still only have the front seats, and no seat belts."

Trent scratched the back of his neck. "Yep."

"Trent, do us a favor and start looking around for another van or something. I'm sure Lindy will appreciate it."

Trent nodded thoughtfully. "You know, she was saying something about it today."

Daria turned toward Max. "Not to show any disrespect. The Tank has served with honor and distinction for years. But, like many great ships, there comes a time for it to be retired with distinction. The time is near for the Tank."

Max looked doubtful. "I don't know…"

"Allow the Tank to retire with it's…hood held high. Don't let it have an ignominious end along the side of a deserted road. Give it rest with the respect it deserves."

"You know, it did take three quarts of oil to get to here. You might be right. I'll have to think about it."

"I know you'll do the right thing."

* * *

Daria and Karen, along with their respective male interests, Michael and Derek, sat around a steamer trunk placed on the floor between the two women's beds. Drink cups and 'Big Bean Burrito' wrappers were scattered on top. Daria said, "Jane was on her way over to the hotel to rouse the band; she's had plenty of practice. So, they shouldn't run too late."

Michael looked at his watch. "I take it that they normally don't 'do' first thing in the afternoon."

Daria smiled. "Not by choice."

Karen answered the ringing telephone. "Hello…Yeah, they're expected…send them on up…bye." She hung up the phone. "On their way."

Michael began to gather up the trash. "Derek got the tab for lunch; I'll clean up the mess."

Despite his offer, Daria and Karen helped to clean up lunch. By the time the task was complete; knocking was heard at the door. Derek stumbled past the piled equipment to open it. "Hey, the rest still have to fight their way through the jungle." He looked at the band, standing around like escapees from a sleep disorder clinic.

Jane pushed from the back. "Move it you guys."

Max glared at Jane. "Slave driver."

She returned the favor. "Do you want me to find a whip?"

Jesse frowned as he lifted an amplifier. "Couldn't we eat first?"

Jane began directing band member traffic. "Unload your junk from Daria's room...then you get breakfast…lunch…or whatever."

Daria threaded her way through the maze. "Glad you could make it guys. I checked with the Student Government rep: the stage is being set up in front of the admin building, so go out the Quad side of the dorm and hang a right." Daria waved her hand high over the gear to point people out. "That's Trent, Max…umm…there's Jesse, and Nick going out the door. You guys, this is Derek, Karen's boyfriend, and Michael."

Trent said, "Thanks, Daria," as he picked up a speaker. The rest of the band grunted in semi-conscious greeting, while Derek and Michael nodded and waved. Quickly, all four band members were loaded up. Derek and Michael each grabbed some equipment and followed.

Exiting the elevator on the ground floor, Trent slowed in front of Michael to separate them from the rest. "You're the guy Daria's been seeing."

"Yeah?"

"She seems to like you."

"I care about her..." Michael looked down, "…a lot."

Trent raised an eyebrow. "I'm sensitive to shifts in mood; I noticed."

Michael followed with, "Let me guess, you want to warn me not to hurt her."

"Nah, she'll take care of herself." Trent's voice became more serious. "But, if you ever hold her back…"

Trent's eyes changed to a darkness that Michael didn't want to cross. They walked in silence to the stage on the east side of the Quad. The other band members had dropped off their loads and were heading back.

Derek waited for Michael and asked, "What did Trent want with you?"

Michael watched Trent and the band walk back toward the dorm. "Being a little protective."

* * *

Two other floor residents, Anna and Jenn, walked up as Daria, Karen and Jane moved the band gear from room to hall.

Anna toyed with her long, braided black hair. "You know the band that's playing today?"

Daria pointed to Jane. "Her brother's band. I've known them for a couple years."

Jenn adjusted her glasses. "Is the cute one in the leather vest taken?"

Jane smirked. "Almost every night, but they usually throw him back."

Anna leaned against a wall. "What about the tall one with black hair?"

Jane answered seriously, "My brother has a girlfriend."

"Darn it. The redhead is kind of cute. What about him?"

* * *

**Raft Student Government Presents:  
****Concert on the Quad  
****Saturday, April 1  
****Mystik Spiral  
****3:30 – 4:30 P.M.  
****Useless Maize  
****5:00 – 6:00 P.M**.

A crowd of several hundred students were seated in front of the stage on blankets, towels and various folding chairs. There was modest applause as Trent approached the microphone. "Hey, Boston. We're Mystik Spiral." He looked sidelong at Jesse. "And we're not thinking about changing our name. Um…yeah, we're supposed to remind you…the refreshment stand is open, beer with proper ID. If you like what you hear, we'll have a CD single on sale there, too." Trent nodded to the band to start a beat. "Okay, folks…Every dog has his day…"

_You put me on a short leash  
__and threw away my hydrant.  
__You ate up all my kibble  
__now my coat's no longer vibrant.  
__My nose is dry and chapped  
__but, this puppy's here to stay.  
__Scratch my belly baby,  
__every dog has his day._

Daria sat cross-legged on a blanket, Michael behind her with his arms around her shoulders. Derek was next to them with Karen's head resting on his lap. He cocked an eyebrow. "That's their lead-in song?"

Daria looked over her shoulder. "Don't worry, they go downhill from there."

Michael said, "That's what we're afraid of."

Daria gave him a light kiss. "Don't worry. Their music only kills the weak brain cells. Survival of the fittest."

Jane approached with a young, brown haired man wearing jeans and sweatshirt. She said, "There you are. This is Dave, met him at the food stand while I was getting fuel for the band."

Daria looked at the young man with a deadpan expression. "You're Jane's stray _du jour_?"

Dave looked down. "I like to think of myself as more of a runaway than a stray."

Daria produced a tiny smile. "He has potential. Guess you won't need to take him back to the pound."

Jane good-naturedly snorted before completing introductions and taking a seat on the blanket. After setting in with Dave next to her, she leaned toward Karen and Derek. "Could one of you grab a couple sodas for us from the cooler?"

Karen looked up at Derek. "I'll get it; I finally got you positioned right for a pillow. Don't move." She rolled to the side and removed two cans from a small cooler. "Want some moon pies to go with those RC's?"

Jane raised an eyebrow, while David said, "Cool, you have civilized friends."

A brief roll of applause followed the band's song. Mystik Spiral followed up with:

_Who shot the hippies?  
__Who locked them in a zoo?  
__Who gagged the beatniks?  
__Who filled their mouths with glue?  
__Who crushed the bohos?  
__Who turned their work to poo?  
__Hey, Mr. Normal, it was you!_

Jane motioned toward the stage. "If my so-called friends were civilized, would they be listening to that?"

"Isn't that your brother's band?"

"Your point?"

Dave listened for a moment. "Um, I don't have one?"

Karen placed the soda cans on the blanket and tossed two moon pies on top. "Have some anyway; they're good for you."

* * *

…  
_Freakin' friends! Freakin' friends!  
__Till we come to bad ends, we're freakin' friends!  
__Freakin' friends! Freakin' friends!  
__Till we come to bad ends, we're freakin' friends!_

The band completed the song with a small flourish and the crowd responded with a good level of applause. Trent held the microphone stand. "Thanks, Raft. We're Mystic Spiral, and we had a great time playing today."

A student government representative climbed on stage. "A round of applause for our first band, Mystik Spiral." After the noise abated, he continued, "We'll have a half-hour break while we prepare the stage for our second band, Useless Maize. Your Student Government Refreshment Stand is open and ready to supply your needs while you wait."

Jane got up and pulled Dave to his feet. "Hey, kids. I promised the band I'd run the Tank over for them load directly into."

Daria also stood. "I appreciate not having them traipse up to my room again, but what are they doing with the gear tonight?"

Jane shook her head. "Max was a little freaked out by the hotel room. He wants to stay in the Tank tonight."

"I hope he doesn't get picked up for vagrancy."

Jane and Dave worked through the crowd. Jane called back, "See you behind the stage in a few."

* * *

The second band was well into playing their set as Jesse and Nick wrestled equipment into the Tank, with Max calling directions from outside. Jane and Dave had procured some director's chairs and were watching the band from a safe distance. Karen and Derek had already left for dinner. Michael had one arm around Daria's shoulder as they started to work their way around the stage to catch the end of Useless Maize's performance.

Trent returned from the refreshment stand with an empty box and an envelope. He stopped next to them and said, "I've got our paychecks. Plus, we sold out all hundred CD singles of _Freakin' Friends_, even with the dollar surcharge they added on."

Daria looked up slightly. "They do make good miniature frisbees."

Trent chuckled, coughed and shook his head. "Yeah, Daria. You always did have a way to get a laugh."

Michael smiled and pulled Daria a little closer. "Just one of the reasons I love her."

Daria's head turned and tilted up with amazing speed. Trent raised an eyebrow and looked at Michael before he said, "Better go check on how the packing is going," and carefully turned to walk toward the Tank.

Daria turned Michael by the shoulders so they directly faced each other. "What did you say?"

Confused, Michael replied, "I said that it was just one of the reasons I…" He stopped as it dawned on him what exactly he had said.

"Continue."

Michael swallowed hard. "Love you." A visible wave of relief crossed his face. He looked down to see mix of joy and terror on Daria's face. "D…Daria?"

"Did you just say…?"

Michael nodded. He noticed a tremor in her hands. "Yes. I love you."

She looked down at the ground. "I…"

He tried to pull her closer, but stopped when he felt her resistance. "I scared the hell out of you, didn't I?"

"I think I'm feeling too many emotions right now to give any precedence."

"I'm sorry. It slipped out."

Daria looked up again. "Something like that doesn't 'slip out' unless you've thought about it for a while."

Michael looked down. "Uh…"

Daria put a finger under his chin and tipped his head up. "You have."

"A…a while."

"And you didn't say anything."

"I couldn't…I…hell, I was afraid. I mean, it took me weeks to build up the courage just to ask you out in the first place. Trying to tell you...that...was overwhelming."

Daria gave him a small smile. "I understand." She nodded in the direction Trent had gone. "I had a crush on him for over a year and was never able to say anything."

Michael looked in the same direction without a sound.

Daria turned his head back with her finger. "Michael, what you said scared me like you wouldn't believe…and made me very happy."

He looked at her, his eyes questioning.

"I've never had somebody feel that way about me; that makes me very happy. It also involves a level of closeness and vulnerability I don't know if I'm ready for. That scares me."

Michael looked concerned.

"I can't honestly say the same to you in return. I care for you very much, more than…more than I ever have for someone."

Michael was able to produce a weak smile. "You don't seem to be running away."

"I'm not. Perhaps, in the future…I might…be able…"

His eyes brightened.

"And, I want to hang around to find out."

He pulled her close, relieved that there was no resistance this time. "I can be patient."

* * *

After a call from the RA desk the next morning, Daria waited at the open door to her room as Trent walked up. "Let me guess, it was easier to stay up all night."

Trent smiled. "Always. The night still holds the key."

"Come on in, I made some coffee. Do you want some?"

"Thanks"

"Is the band still out cold?"

"Yeah."

"I have a suspicion about what brought you over this morning."

Trent looked around. "Where's Karen?"

"She's already at work, and will be there until five."

"Okay."

Daria handed Trent a cup of coffee. "Well?"

"I heard."

"And you made a quiet exit to let us talk. Thank you."

Trent sipped the hot liquid. "You okay with it?"

Daria sat in her chair. "I'm getting there."

"You looked surprised."

"That's an understatement."

Trent sat in the other chair and rested his arms on the back. "Do you want him to feel that way?"

"Yes, he's been a wonderful gentleman. I'd always hoped that somebody would, someday. But, not necessarily at this time in my life."

"Love doesn't seem to pay attention to our schedules."

"You should write a song about that."

"Hmm. Maybe I will."

"Just don't blame it on me."

"You feel the same?"

"I…I…don't know." She looked down. "Where does 'like a lot' end and 'love' begin?" She gazed up at Trent. "I very much want him a part of my life."

Trent gave her a small smile. "You're close."

Daria questioned with her eyes.

He smiled. "When you are, you'll know."

"Thanks. But why did he have to…so quickly?"

Trent continued, "Nothing says that two people have to fall in love at the same time."

"I suppose."

Trent rolled his chair next to Daria's and placed an arm around her shoulder. "You're still the coolest college student I know."

Daria smiled at him.

He said, "I talked to him yesterday."

"He didn't say anything to me about it."

"It's a guy thing."

"Yeah, right."

"He's fallen for you, hard."

"Your 'ethereal transference' again?"

"Yeah. He has a good heart."

"I think so, too."

"Sometimes…a guy like that can be pretty stupid."

"I should expect a loss of higher brain function?"

"No…he might do things that his heart thinks are a good idea, but…aren't."

"Sounds like you speak from experience."

"Um…kind of."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Just warning you."

"Thanks. Trent, since we've been digging into my…um…relationship life so deeply, mind if I return the favor?"

"Huh?"

"What about your feelings for Lindy?"

Trent abruptly rose from the chair. "Uh…look, I better get going. We still have a long drive back to Lawndale. And it takes a while to wake Jesse up."

Daria smirked at him. "Oookay. Drive safely…and stay awake."

"Do our best. Later."

"Bye."

Daria watched the closed door for a couple of minutes. "Trent, make sure you don't do something stupid."

* * *

Lindy gave an exasperated smile and shook her head as she approached Casa Lane. A yellow rental truck was pulling away, and she could see Trent carrying an amplifier. "Looks like the Tank once again puked on them." Lindy parked her car and walked inside the house. Not seeing him immediately, she called up the stairs, "Hey, Trent! I'm home."

Trent called back down, "Great timing." Soon, he strolled down and handed Lindy an envelope.

Lindy wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. "Welcome home." She took the envelope and cautiously opened it. "How much did that rental truck cost?"

"Covered it from selling CD's. All your money is there."

"So, where did the Tank fall by the wayside?"

"Just before the Maryland line. Max stayed behind to get it fixed."

"I'm glad everyone's all right. So, how did the concert go?"

"Good show…crowd mostly liked us. Sold out the CD's. Got cards from a couple of club owners."

"That sounds good."

"They asked for my card. How hard would it be to get some made up?"

"A stop by the stationary shop and five minutes on my computer."

"Cool."

"How are Jane and Daria doing?"

"Pretty good. Jane's having a lot of fun. Met Daria's boyfriend. I think…I think she's going to be happy."

"That's good to hear."

"We also talked about the Tank."

"Oh?"

"You're right; we need something safer."

"Don't listen to me, but listen to your sister and her friend."

"Hey, they just backed you up."

"Smooth recovery."

Have to trade in Old Blue, need a down payment."

Lindy looked at the envelope. "I'm willing to part with this if it will keep you safe on the road."

"Let me try, first. You might have an emergency."

"Okay, but it is here if you need it."

"I know."

Trent started back upstairs, stopped, and turned around. "Lindy, do you mind if I tell you something?"

* * *

Daria answered the telephone in her dorm room. "Hello."

Lindy spoke from the living room of the Lane residence. "Hi, Daria. Lindy."

"Lindy?"

"What the hell did you do to Trent?"

"Do?"

"You are the only one who could get him to say something like that."

Daria hesitated a moment. "What did he say?"

"He said he loved me."

"Oh, boy."

"Freaked me out. What did you do to get him thinking about that?"

"Uh…Actually, it was my boyfriend…that kind of got things started."

"What the hell did he do?"

Daria quietly said, "He said the same thing to me."

Startled, Lindy only said, "Oh."

"It caught me by surprise, too."

"Let me guess: Trent heard and that got him thinking…"

"At least partially, though I may have added to his thoughts."

"Hmm?"

"Trent, being his protective self, wanted to make sure I was okay. To get him off the subject, I asked how he felt about you…"

"I was so unprepared."

"I'm getting the feeling that nobody ever really is prepared."

"I still don't understand why."

"Why what?"

"Why would Trent feel that way about a mousy, ex-drunk like me?"

"Because…he's not a fool?"

"Sometimes I feel he's being a fool keeping me around. Especially compared to people like you."

"Me?"

"You do realize how he felt about you…"

Embarrassed, Daria said, "I have a good idea. I once had a crush on him, too. But, we wouldn't have worked out. Please don't feel jealous. I'm no threat."

"I know. That's…what I don't understand. You have so much going for you, and such a future. Trent made a special effort to make sure you two didn't get involved; he said felt he could only hurt you and hold you back."

"I've had the idea that was his reasoning."

"I'm going to barely graduate from college with something like a 2.2 GPA. You and I don't compare."

"Now, I'm basing this on what I've seen of you, and what I've heard from Jane and Quinn. You seem to have a capacity I don't have, and that Trent absolutely needs."

"What's that?"

"You have the ability to accept him as he is, while staying yourself."

"I don't quite follow you."

"Trent has his laid-back attitude toward life. He truly is not concerned about making a lot of money, as long as he is free to create his music. Take that away, and it would destroy him. You seem to be able to live with that. In the long run, I never could. We both understood that."

"Oh. I guess that does make sense. I don't mind having to kind of watch over him, since he has been such a wonderful emotional support."

"He is one of the most generous people I'll ever know."

"Okay, I understand a little better, but it still freaks me out."

"I agree on that front. I must admit…the thought of Michael feeling like that toward me also feels good."

"The same thought toward Trent is what has kept me from running screaming into the road."

"To somewhat change the subject, I am glad you are trying to get the band into something safer."

"Did you hear that infernal contraption threw a rod on the way back from Boston?"

"No. Is everyone okay?"

"Fine, but I think it convinced Trent to trade in his car for something better."

"Miracles do happen."

* * *

_Every Dog Has His Day_ from _Groped By An Angel_ by Jonathan Greenberg.  
_Mr. Normal_ from _Jane's Addition_ by Glenn Eichler.  
_Freakin' Friends_ from _Is It Fall Yet?_ by Glenn Eichler and Peggy Nicoll.

Thanks for comments, suggestions, gags and support from the following at PPMB: Staren, Kristen Bealer, Mike Nassour, Steven Galloway, Parker-man, SteveBlumDeckler, ipswichfan, Lawndale Stalker, Ranger Thorne, Mahna Mahna, Roger E. Moore, Decelaraptor, Isa Yo-Jo, nmorgendorffer, and brnleague99.

Thanks to ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

October 2004  
Revised February 2005


	16. A Daze at the Races

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the sixteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**A Daze at the Races**

Quinn Morgendorffer entered her home after another Monday afternoon tutoring session with Kevin Thompson, former star quarterback for the Lawndale Lions. "April…Only seven more weeks and we're done. At least he's behaving himself these days."

She set her backpack on the coffee table and began to sort the day's mail. One envelope caught her attention; she opened it with a mixture of eagerness and dread.

**Dear Ms. Quinn Morgendorffer,**

**Congratulations. We are pleased to accept you at Pepperhill University as an incoming freshman of the Class of 2004. We eagerly await the attendance of such an upstanding scholar as you.**

**Your orientation and registration packet will be arriving within the next week. Please follow all instructions carefully and fully to avoid any delays when you arrive in August.**

**Welcome aboard.**

She jumped and pumped her fist in the air. "Yes!"

The yell reverberated through an empty house. A hint of sadness touched her eyes before she rushed to the kitchen phone and keyed in a number.

Michael Fulton pushed his glasses up and eyed the ringing telephone. He rose from the desk chair and walked to it at the opposite end of his girlfriend's dorm room. "Hello."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Michael?"

"Yeah."

"Is Daria somewhere around?"

"She's down the hall, in the bathroom."

"Shoot!"

"I could always run down the hall to tell her to hurry."

"No, don't do that."

"Is there a problem?"

"Oh…um…no. I'm just excited."

"I hadn't noticed."

Quinn felt a minor irritation at him. "Daria would have to find somebody as sarcastic as she is."

"Some things you just can't resist."

"You do realize that you're contributing to my folks' flakiness about Daria."

"Seems like the least I can do."

Quinn's lips formed a sincere smile. "Don't say anything to her, but I'm glad she has someone like you around. You do make her happy."

"Uh…thanks, Quinn. Your secret's safe."

Daria entered the room and looked over. "Who's that?"

"Your sister."

"She's probably calling with her birthday wish list. I told her it would be easier to email, but she likes that personal touch."

Daria took the phone. "Hi, Quinn, what's up?"

"I got in! I'm going to Pepperhill!"

"You did? Congratulations. I bet Mom and Dad are thrilled."

"Um…they're not home yet. You're the first I've told."

"I hope they get home soon. I know you must be excited."

"I am! Just think of all the cute boys I can find in southern California."

"We must keep our priorities."

"Oh, Daria! You are so right, just think of all the great new Hollywood fashions I can get!"

"Just don't let all that pesky school work get in the way."

"Don't worry, that's my ticket to stay there. Talk about motivation."

Daria gave a light laugh. "Only from you would that make complete sense, and actually comfort me."

"Thanks Daria, I appreciate the confidence."

"Besides the great news, how are you doing?"

"Busy. Getting ready for the prom and still tutoring Tiffany and Kevin. The grade-fixing scandal is really going crazy. The police carted off Ms. Li's computer a couple days ago. Coach Gibson was suspended."

"It couldn't happen to nicer people."

"They had to cancel the end of spring football season because too many players were put on probation."

"Wait. You must be smack in the middle of this, what with you tutoring Kevin."

"Mom's keeping a close eye on things."

"One time I'm glad she's a lawyer."

"Me, too."

"I heard some interesting news about you and Michael…"

Daria narrowed her eyes. "Yesss?"

"Did he really say it?"

Daria smiled at Michael. "He did."

"Wow."

"That is one way to put it."

"What did you say back?"

"Quinn, don't pry."

"I'm only showing a little sisterly concern. After hearing about you two sleeping together at Jane's party and now saying he loves you, I wanted to know if I needed to worry about finding a bridesmaid's dress any time soon."

Daria did pleasantly remember her and Michael sleeping next to each other in Jane's room when they were stuck overnight by a winter storm, along with Jane, her roommate CC, and CC's boyfriend. Michael's inadvertent admission of his feelings a little over a week earlier had been a wonderful and frightening surprise.

However, Daria glared in irritation at her sister's suggestions. "Quinn…I don't know how you heard…but to put it bluntly, no. Nothing happened between us, and nothing like the other…subject…is even remotely in the consideration stages. Put the catalogs away."

Quinn grinned at her sister's discomfort. "Okay Daria, if you say so."

"Just remember, Sis; you will get involved with somebody, eventually. I will have satisfaction."

"I'm sure you will. By the way, did you get my shopping list?"

"We only just got in, let me check." Daria went to her computer and opened her email. After a few moments, she said, "Got it. Gee, Quinn, you're getting soft in your old age."

"Well…I did trim the list to things from stores you will actually go into."

"Um…thanks. I shouldn't have any problems overnighting your present to you before Saturday."

"Daria, be glad your birthday falls on a normal day of the year."

"That is one thing you always did get short-changed on. But, look at it this way: your future husband will never forget the date."

Quinn rolled her eyes and was about to respond when she heard the front door open. "Somebody's home, I want to go tell them. Talk to you later."

"Later."

Jake Morgendorffer was blindsided by Quinn running up and hugging him. She excitedly said, "Daddy, I'm going to Pepperhill! I made it!"

Jake returned the hug and looked confused. "Huh?"

"Pepperhill! College! They accepted me!"

"Oh! That's great Quinn. We need to celebrate. How about if I call and have a cheeseless pizza delivered for tonight?"

"Thanks."

"Now, if we get your mother home…"

* * *

"Gaaahhhhhh! Where'd that stupid calculator get off to this time?" Jake yelled to nobody in particular. He scanned and shuffled through the paperwork heaped on the coffee table. Income tax forms stared up at him like the Pits of Hell. "What a way to ruin a perfectly good Saturday!"

Helen Morgendorffer sat down next to Jake and sifted through part of the accumulated paper. Jake turned to her, "Have you seen…" He stopped when she pulled the offending instrument from its hiding place and handed it to him.

She smiled and said, "Here, Jake."

He looked at it sheepishly. "Thanks, Honey."

She patted his leg. "We'll get through this, together, like we do every year."

"I always kind of feel bad that we never get this done earlier. I mean, it is so unfair to Quinn."

"You're right. We really shouldn't wait until the last day to get this done."

Quinn quietly watched from halfway down the stairs. _It seems like I've heard that for as long as I can remember. After today, it won't matter._ She put on a happier face and continued down the stairs. "Good morning."

Her parents turned to face her and said in unison, "Happy birthday!"

Smiling, Quinn said, "Thanks." _If I ever find out who made April 15 the due day for income tax…I'll get Daria to come up with something horrible to do to them._

Helen tapped Jake's shoulder. "Now." Jake got up and headed toward the closet under the stairs. Helen turned to Quinn. "Sweetie, I'm sorry, but once again…" Helen looked at the tax paperwork.

"I know."

"This time, we are not going to make you wait." Helen went into the kitchen, returning with a small cake as Jake emerged from the closet with two gifts. Jake and Helen said, "Happy birthday, Quinn."

Quinn smiled at the effort and blew out the eighteen candles. "Thanks."

Jake handed the larger package over. "From your sister."

Inside, Quinn found a black, silk dress that had been on the wish list she'd sent Daria. A last entry she never thought Daria would actually want, or afford, to buy. Also inside was a note:

_**Quinn,**_

**_I've never been good at finding things like this. That green sweater you gave me last year has become one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy this as much._**

_**Daria.**_

_**P.S. Happy Legality.**_

Helen looked on in utter surprise as Quinn slowly drew the dress from the box. "That's beautiful."

Quinn looked it over approvingly. "Well, I did give her the idea. But, I never thought she would buy something like this." _Thanks, Sis._

Jake looked on in confusion. "Quinn, who's that from? I though you were opening Daria's present."

Helen looked at him in frustration. "Jake...that is Daria's gift."

Jake looked sidelong at Helen, and then back at the dress. "But…it's a dress…for Quinn."

Helen nodded. "Yes."

"But…she's never bought Quinn clothes…"

Helen placed a hand on his knee. "This time, she made a special effort. Our children are beginning to show signs of tolerating each other."

"Oh…"

Quinn moved over next to him. "Don't be upset Daddy. I was surprised, too." Quinn whispered in his ear, "I think she secretly likes me."

Jake turned in surprise. "Of course she likes you, you're her sister!"

"Yes, Daddy, but she tries to keep quiet about it."

"Oh, yeah. She has to stay cool about things. I understand."

Quinn smiled at her father and opened the smaller, somewhat familiar-looking box. She removed a one-thousand dollar CD, with a maturation date in less than a month. "Wow, money for down payment on a car, thanks."

Helen asked, "Would you mind going with us next month with Daria? We can look for cars for both of you at the same time."

Quinn smiled at her mother. "Sure, that way, we can make sure Daria doesn't get something dreadful."

"Quinn! You are each going to choose your own car, within your budget. You will not try to influence Daria's choice."

"Okay. But Mom, even your parents outright bought cars for their children, why are you going through all this with us?"

Helen looked a little sad. "Because I don't want to make the mistake my parents made in choosing cars for their children. Even though mine did last longer than Rita's. We don't want you to take your cars for granted, the way Rita and I did. Plus, this way will get both of you set up well to build your own good credit."

"I figured it would be something like that." Quinn grinned. "But, I had to try."

Helen gave her a brief glare. "How many of your classmates with cars really appreciate them?"

"Well, Stacy does…but she only drives it on the track…and she helped her dad build it."

"Are you still going to see her this afternoon?"

"Of course. Somebody has to look good at the race track. And, she got us infield passes this time so we don't have to sit in those smelly bleachers."

"I worry about her. Racing is such a dangerous sport."

"She's as safe as possible, Mom. Her dad has her in all the best safety equipment and we made sure it was all properly color coordinated."

"Color coordinated?"

"You would not believe how hard it was to get a fire-proof suit made that didn't look…brrr." Quinn shuddered in horror. "Plus, we have her in one of those full helmets, so Stacy doesn't have to wear those…goggles…or get all that…grime-stuff…on her face. It really couldn't have been good for her pores."

Helen said, "Uh…that's nice, Sweetie."

"But, that neck-brace thingy. It's new, supposed to keep her head from moving around too much in a crash." Quinn rolled her eyes. "God, it looks like it was made by a color-blind engineer. We're still trying to figure out how to make it look decent. We may have to bring in some outside, professional help."

Helen pulled some money from her purse. "Here, take your friends out to dinner to celebrate your birthday, on me."

"Thanks."

"Who's going with you today?"

"Just Tiffany. Lindy has to work and couldn't get someone to cover for her."

"Are you still not talking to Sandi?"

"I've tried, but she isn't talking to any of us."

* * *

Tiffany Blum-Decker wrinkled her nose. "Stacy…this place smells like…gasoline."

Stacy Rowe was double-checking the arm and leg closures on her protective suit. "Of course it smells like gasoline. This is the pit area."

"Stacy…ewww."

Quinn leaned against Tiffany. "Just pretend it's the smells in the girl's locker room."

"Quinn…EWWW!"

Quinn tapped her temple. "And ignore it."

"Oh…yeah. Good idea."

Dennis Rowe was a tall man with hair the same shade as his daughter's, also pulled into a single pony-tail. He approached the three and said, "Hi, girls."

Tiffany and Quinn both said, "Hi, Mr. Rowe."

Stacy gave him a brief hug. "Daddy."

He looked at her. "How are things coming?"

Stacy giggled a little as she pulled a hood over her head and tucked it inside the neck of her suit. After smoothing it, she replied, "Fine, almost there." She looked toward Quinn and Tiffany. "Guys, could you please grab my gloves and helmet?"

Quinn picked up the full-face helmet and handed it to Stacy; she pulled it down and fastened the strap. Tiffany helped her with the gloves. Her muffled voiced said, "Time to go."

She slid into the driver's seat of her blue car and buckled in. Her father reached in and fitted the HANS device around her neck and secured it properly. "Go get'em."

Stacy started the car and pulled out toward the forming racers on the track.

Mr. Rowe watched with a smile, and then turned to his daughter's friends. "Stacy tells me you're eighteen today. Congratulations."

Quinn smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Rowe."

"I also appreciate the two of you taking her out for her birthday a couple weeks ago. You have been very good friends for her. Anyway, I set up a place on top of the box van. The ladder is on the back. I'll be trackside by the pits if you need anything. Have fun, girls."

The box van had "Rowe Custom Automotive" on the side. The two women climbed on top, to find two folding chairs placed under a folding umbrella set into a fitting on the roof. A small cooler of diet sodas were also in place. Quinn and Tiffany applied sunscreen and adjusted their sun hats against the afternoon glare. They smiled at each other as various males in the vicinity stumbled into things as they looked up at the two.

* * *

Stacy scanned the cars around her. _I hate starting in the middle of the field_. She felt exhilaration as the last turn cleared and she saw the start line. A green flag dropped with the lead car's approach. As an almost organic whole, the pack of cars began to accelerate. Stacy did the same, then backed off for a half-second and drifted to the right, allowing a small gap to open as the next car maneuvered clear of her. She sped into the gap to gain a little position in the pack before reaching Turn One.

Quinn pointed to Stacy gaining in the pack. "I still cannot believe Stacy's doing something like that. I'd be a basket case."

Tiffany nodded. "You know…when we were little...Stacy was a tom-boy."

Quinn looked at her friend. "No!"

"Yeah…until middle school."

"Hmm."

"She…didn't seem shy then…hmm."

Quinn twisted in frustration to keep the blue car in sight. _We need swivel chairs for this. Next time._ "I wonder…was that about the time she started hanging out with Sandi?"

"Yeah. Sandi always was…good at fashion."

The car in front of her broke into a partial skid entering a corner. Stacy eased off the accelerator slightly to reduce speed and eased past to the inside, clearing the incident, but costing her position. She hit the gas hard as she moved back up and scanned for an opening.

Tiffany sipped from her diet soda. "Stacy asked me and Sandi…to help her dress…more like a girl. Eighth grade."

Quinn looked thoughtful. "Uh huh."

"Sandi…really worked hard…Stacy had so…much to learn."

"I bet."

"I think…Sandi got frustrated…Stacy was never that…sure about what to wear."

"Tell me about it." _But that explains a few things._

* * *

Well into the race, Stacy was relieved at the looser pack of cars. She eyed ahead and gently drifted to take a position to get ahead of the next car as they entered the curve. She kept her father's advice in mind, _Firm and safe. You have to finish to win._

Tiffany tapped the arm of her chair impatiently. "I wish there was something to eat around here."

Quinn waved a hand. "I know. What is it with all those hamburgers, hot dogs and fries? I mean...blech. Is it so hard to sell carrot sticks?"

"They don't even have diet sodas. I'm glad Stacy brought some."

Quinn looked down at the cooler. "We should probably save a couple for her."

* * *

Seventy-five miles and three quarters done. Stacy allowed a little smile. She was doing well: ninth in a race of twenty-five. She was able to keep her position, but was not gaining on the lead cars. She pushed down a little harder, but there was nothing more for the engine to give. Three cars ahead, two racers tapped corners, driving both cars into spins.

Stacy let out an "Eep!" and felt every muscle in her body tighten. She slipped her car in directly behind the car in front and followed it past the spins. Just as she thought she was clear, she felt a sickening crunch and the car jerked to the side.

The car began to spin as she remembered her father taking her out onto that old wet clay road. He said, "Turn into the spin to gain control,"as he locked the brakes and threw the car into a spin, and then recovered. "Your turn." Stacy completed one spin and felt control returning. She had lost time, but regained speed and continued back into the pack.

Tiffany stared wide-eyed at the track. "Oh…my God."

Quinn's hands went to her face. "Stacy!"

Both slumped back in visible relief as Stacy recovered and continued, albeit with a horribly mangled rear quarter-panel.

Quinn looked over at Tiffany. "We're getting too old for this."

Tiffany cocked her head. "But…huh?"

* * *

_Only three laps_, Stacy told herself as she began to smell burnt rubber from the back of the car. She also heard scraping and thumping of the damaged car body as it shook in the slipstream. Driving a little more carefully, Stacy had still moved back to eleventh place. The slight shake in the steering wheel kept her from pushing the car any harder.

_Two laps_. The smell was getting stronger. Stacy worriedly looked back, but could see nothing amiss. Keeping a steady pace, she managed to slide below the next car and gain position in the next corner.

_One lap_. It seemed like a fine, pale cloud was forming behind her. Stacy wished the cloud away as she worked to maintain her place. As the last curve passed, she held her breath and gave a little extra until she passed the finish line. Exhaling in relief, she quickly moved toward the inside and slowed, rolling into the pit. Forty feet shy of her station; she felt the right rear tire blow and the back of the car shake hard as she rolled to a stop.

A small trail of smoke rose from the wheel well as Dennis jumped over the rail. Another pit crewman ran to the car with a fire extinguisher and began to spray the wheel area. Dennis reached the car and began to help unbuckle Stacy, pulling her through the window as soon as she was clear. He held her close as they quickly moved away and sternly said, "Why didn't you pull in earlier? A tire blowing like that could have sent you into a wall!"

Stacy looked startled. "But…but I was so close."

"No buts. You also have to think of the other drivers. Going out of control could have taken a couple other cars out, too."

Stacy looked down. "Oh." She looked up sadly. "Sorry."

Dennis softened at his daughter's contrition. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt out there. Go get changed; I'll take care of the car."

Still quiet, she said, "Okay."

* * *

Stacy met up with her friends after changing into her normal clothes. "Hi, guys."

Quinn turned. "Stacy, you had us scared for a minute there."

Tiffany blinked. "Really scared."

"Sorry guys. I wanted to finish so bad, I ignored the smoke."

Quinn glared. "Smoke? I was talking about the car that hit you."

Stacy weakly smiled. "Something rubbed against a tire and it started to smoke."

"And?"

"It blew as I pulled in."

Quinn's face dropped into shock. "Stacy!"

Stacy looked down again. "I know. My Dad already talked to me. I'm sorry."

Quinn gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't let it happen again."

"Okay."

Quinn smiled more broadly and put her hands on her hips. "Great, now we all go out to dinner, on my Mom."

Tiffany said, "Quinn…Your Mom is so cool."

Quinn turned slightly so Tiffany wouldn't see her rolled eyes.

Stacy cheered up. "Oh, thanks, Quinn."

* * *

"I thought I would find the three of you here. Not the most fashionable place to be hanging out," Sandi Griffin said from where she stood near Jake's Lexus.

Quinn smiled. "Sandi, how nice to see you."

Tiffany said, "Hi…Sandi."

Stacy remained quiet.

Sandi shuffled her feet. "Well…um…But then, this is such a place in need of a good example. I'm sure the fashion sense of everyone here went up from your fine example."

Quinn nodded. "Thanks, Sandi. We were about to go out for dinner, on my Mom's treat. Care to join us?"

Sandi smiled, and her voice slightly cracked. "Oh. Thank you, Quinn."

"You're welcome. We were going to meet at Governor's Park in two hours. Any problem with that?"

Sandi hugged Quinn. "No, not at all."

Quinn eyed Sandi with a hint of distrust.

* * *

Helen looked up from the tax paperwork as Quinn descended the stairs wearing her gift from Daria. Helen brightened and said, "Quinn, you look lovely. It is nice to see you in your sister's gift."

Quinn waggled her head slightly. "Mo-om. Of course I'm going to wear it. And I'm going to make sure everyone knows she bought it for me."

"That is so sweet."

Quinn flashed Helen a wicked grin. "She'll never live it down."

"Quinn!" Helen belted as her daughter disappeared out the door.

* * *

Tiffany's eyes were wide. "No…Your sister?"

Stacy raised her eyebrows. "Daria?"

Sandi appraised the dress. "I must say, Quinn; you have done an admirable job in training her to find fashionable clothes."

Quinn half-smiled at Sandi. "So, how have you been lately? We hardly get to see you."

"Oh, I've been around. I have been quite busy."

Stacy held her hands together. "Any chance of getting your teen fashion show going again at your Mom's television station?"

Sandi shook her head in anger. "I'm not working there any more. My mother pinned the blame on me for some news videotape that came up missing." She went into a frighteningly accurate imitation of her mother, Linda Griffin. "'Sacrificing your job makes so much more sense than sacrificing mine. Besides, I brought that tape home for you to see; you should have kept track of it.'"

Tiffany looked on in sympathy. "Sandi…bummer."

Stacy looked down a little. "From your own mother? I can't imagine."

Quinn shook her head. "I never thought she would have sunk so low."

Sandi shook her fist in frustration. "Even after I found the damn thing in my stupid brother's room."

Quinn questioned, "Then why didn't you just give it back?"

Sandi got a disgusted look. "My icky brother had given it to Upchuck to get some dirty movies copied onto it."

Tiffany and Stacy both went, "Ewww!"

Quinn closed here eyes and shivered. "Gross!"

"I burned the miserable little thing."

Stacy winced. "I don't blame you. Yuck!"

Sandi ground her teeth. "What really gets me is that she brought it home because she couldn't figure out it was Quinn's sister on the tape."

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "What was Daria doing on a news tape?"

"It was that stupid award dinner your Mom did last year."

"Oh." Quinn thought of what Upchuck potentially had taped over the story. "Eww!"

Sandi felt a little uncomfortable. Upchuck had used a screen capture from the tape in what looked like a stalker's website of Daria. The network's legal department had a fit when they discovered the image used on the website was from copyrighted material that was never broadcast. Such an image could only have come from a station copy, potentially making the station and network liable. Pressure was applied, and someone had to be held responsible.

Tiffany looked at her water glass. "Can we…change the subject?"

Quinn quickly nodded. "Yes, we do need to change the subject. How is everyone doing getting ready for the prom? It's only three weeks away."

Tiffany smiled. "I get the final…fitting for my dress…next week. I found something that…doesn't make me look…fat."

Stacy looked a little downcast. "I still haven't found anything."

Sandi looked over. "Do you want some help? I think I can fit you in."

"Oh, Sandi. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

* * *

"Bye, now." Quinn waved to Stacy exiting the restaurant. She turned to the one person remaining with her at the table. "Okay, Sandi. What is going on?"

"What do you mean, Quinn?"

"You haven't spoken to us in five months. Suddenly, you act like you've just returned from a long vacation."

"Can't someone get back in touch with their friends?"

"That's what I wonder. Are we your friends?"

Sandi looked down at her check. "I hope so."

"Sandi…"

"You three are the only friends I had."

"We tried to talk to you."

"I know. I was too mad."

"I kind of guess I was, too."

"I've missed all of you."

"We missed you."

Sandi looked up pleadingly. "Friends?"

Quinn smiled. "Friends."

* * *

Quinn parked the Lexus and checked her watch: 11:20. She cautiously approached the front door and listened. Muffled sounds of her parents at a near panic could be heard. Quinn closed her eyes, smiled and shook her head. _Some things you can always depend on_. Patiently, she stood near the corner of the garage.

Within a couple of minutes, Jake burst forth from the front door, a large envelope in hand and madness in his eyes. He sprinted toward Helen's red SUV and slammed into it full-force when the locked door failed to open. "Gahhh! Dammit!" On the third try, he got the key in the lock and opened it. He tossed the envelope on the dashboard and started the engine. With the door still closing, he barked the tires as he backed down the driveway.

As the vehicle reached the road, Quinn yelled, "Daddy, turn your lights on!"

Jake turned in surprise, looked down and sheepishly turned the lights on. He waved at Quinn and sped away at high speed.

Quinn smiled at her father and went into the house.

* * *

Thanks to readers at PPMB for comments, suggestions and support: Mike Nassour, mman, The Angst Guy, Greystar, Isa Yo-Jo, Kristen Bealer, gearhead, Decelaraptor, DJW, Staren, A.J., Ranger Thorne, and renfield1969.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer for Beta reading.

October 2004  
Revised February 2005


	17. May Day

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the seventeenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**May Day**

Dr. Harrison Miller leaned back against his desk as he spoke to a young, auburn-haired woman with large, round glasses. "Daria, you've done an exemplary job in transcribing those interviews for me, it's going to save me a tremendous amount of time in getting my book together. I'm going to include you in the Acknowledgements. I wish I could keep you on, but the grant money was limited."

Daria Morgendorffer nodded. "I understand; we both knew this was a temporary position. But, I learned a lot. Finding out about my grandfather's experiences at the Chosin Reservoir during the Korean War gave me a new attitude toward him. I think it may have helped my Dad, too. I've also been able to build up a good financial buffer to pay rent for the summer."

Dr. Miller rubbed his chin and held out a sheet of paper. "However, I know of an opening for a part-time proofreader at the Raft University Press. I bet if you asked, you could get a letter of recommendation."

Daria took the advertisement and read.

**Raft University Press**

**Wanted: Proof-reader/Editor**

**Part-time (10-20 hours per week) for the electronic submissions office. Successful candidate must show a professional command of English and be able to work with multiple word processor programs. A proficiency exam will be a part of the application process. This is a 12-month technical support staff position.**

**Pay: 9.25 per hour**

**Apply to:**

**Human Resources Office  
****215 Founder's Hall  
****Raft University  
****Boston, MA**

Daria looked up with a small smile. "Is this position a regular university employee?"

"Yes."

Daria smiled. "Staff parking. Thanks. I'll apply right away."

Daria exited the building in good spirits. "I can just make it over to pick up the application. That will give me the weekend to fill it out."

Daria walked through the early Friday evening to her dorm. "Finals are next week. My first year of college is almost done." She allowed herself a small smile.

* * *

The following Sunday afternoon, Daria was preparing to go out. Her roommate, Karen Myerson, finished a phone call and said, "Hey, our transportation problems are solved for next weekend when we go apartment hunting."

"How so?"

"My brother, Terry, is going to drive up. His wife is having some redecorating done to their house, and she doesn't want him around to help." Karen smirked. "The last time cost them an extra six hundred. Anyway, we can get around in his truck to look for apartments, and then use it to move our stuff. After everything is done, he's giving me a ride home to Georgia for the summer. He should be here late next Friday."

"Where's he going to stay?"

"I'm still working on that."

"You said truck. I can't see the four of us squeezing into one seat. Jane is going to want to come with."

"Daria, he has a three-quarter ton, four-door truck. There'll be plenty of room."

Daria nodded. "Sounds good. I have an idea. Do you think he'd be willing to drop Jane and me off in Lawndale on the way to back with you to Georgia?"

Karen smiled. "I'm sure he won't object. If he does…let's say I still have the duplicate negatives."

Daria nodded. "I'd appreciate it. So will Dad, if he doesn't have to make the trip to pick us up."

"No real problem. Are you off to see Michael?"

"Just for a little while, on the Commons. Then back to the old study grind."

"Have fun."

* * *

Daria and Michael Fulton sat on a blanket in the Boston Common. The spring sun warmed both of them as they watched people go by.

Michael looked a little sad. "Well, I made my flight arrangements. I'll leave for Detroit next Saturday."

A hint of sadness also penetrated Daria's usual monotone. "Oh, boy; we get another goodbye at the airport."

"We're going to get attached to that eatery."

"Not unless they improve the food."

"I'm going to miss you."

"Are you sure there is no way you can stay for the summer session?"

"I promised Dad that I'd help this summer. It was part of the deal for me to come to Boston."

"I'm going to miss you, too. I'm still planning on going to see you for the Fourth of July weekend."

"Good luck finding an apartment. Make sure you send the addy as soon as possible."

"You think I'll forget?"

He laughed. "I guess not. Good luck going back to Lawndale for the rest of your stuff and finding a car."

Daria rolled her eyes. "And facing Mom's questions. Once you get back after summer, we will have to get you down there to meet my parents, or my Mom's head is going to burst."

"So, you're saying this is a bad thing?"

"Well, Dad would forget to clean the mess up, leaving it for me the next time I visit."

"Damn, got a point there. Okay, no exploding Mom heads."

Daria smiled and looked up at the sky. "I wish finals weren't starting tomorrow. If this were a communist country, we would have it off for May Day."

Michael smirked. "Maybe we can get off for religious reasons? Want to celebrate Beltane?"

Daria narrowed her eyes and looked at him. "I am not jumping naked over a fire."

* * *

Daria felt good as she left the publications office in Founder's Hall, the main administration building of Raft. She'd aced the short proofreading proficiency test, even with her brain in a half-funk after the first day of final exams. "This job could really make life easier."

She put her hands in her jeans pockets for the walk to the men's dorm, Milton Hall. As she approached, she saw Michael's red-headed form waiting outside. He noticed and began to jog toward her with a broad grin on his face. "I've got some great news." He pulled Daria into a quick hug before directing them toward a bench well out on the Quad. "You might want to sit down for this." They took a seat on the bench

Michael turned and rapidly said, "Daria, I got into the Cerretti Undergraduate Archaeology Program in Rome. I'll fly there at the end of summer. It's a great advanced program, with a lot of field experience. I'll be a shoo-in for grad school. I've dreamed about getting into something like this for years."

Daria looked at him in surprise before saying, "And it didn't occur to you to mention this sooner?"

"I'd applied to back in September, and was put on the wait list back in January. I didn't mention it because nobody gets in from the wait list."

Daria glared at him. _Go figure._

"Usually."

She felt her heart sag. "How long will you be there?"

"Until I finish my degree…three years."

"But what about…"

"I…I have a proposal."

Daria looked up as he held a dark blue ring box in front of her and opened it. Inside was a yellow gold band set with a marquis-cut emerald.

"P…please marry me?"

Daria stared at the ring, and then into Michael's eyes.

"That's a…"

"Yes, it is. For you."

Daria sat back, stunned. She felt emotions crash together with a force she'd never before felt. After a long, thoughtful pause, she asked, "But, what will I do in Rome?"

Michael was running on enthusiasm, overcoming his usual hesitancy. "You'll be with me."

"I'd have to apply to colleges all over again. Even then, it's too late to get into someplace for fall classes."

"I'm sure you can get into a school. Don't worry about it."

Irritation began to set in for Daria. _Just like Tom, making decisions for the two of us. _"In English? Their English departments would be like our Italian, teaching as a second language. I'd have to change majors, or go without one."

"Then you can write. Imagine what you can do, with all of Rome to be your inspiration."

All her plans for Raft and grad school where colliding against the chance to go with him. "But…I want to continue school here. I fought hard to come to Raft. Writing is fun, but I don't want it to be my work…yet. Going to college like this has been one of my most important dreams."

A true daughter of Helen, she also began to think of the practical aspects. "How're we going to pay for everything? I'll probably have to find some kind of full-time job just to support us. I'd have to delay school until you're finished."

Michael slowed and noticed the deep concern in her eyes. "Daria…what's wrong? I thought…I thought you'd be happy."

Daria felt a single tear moving down her left cheek. "You want me to marry you, but to do that, I have to give up, or seriously delay, my dreams."

Michael slowly asked. "Do you want me to stay?"

"That's what I want…but that means you have to give up your dream." She shook her head. "I can't do that."

Michael looked down in silence.

Daria moved his chin up so she could look directly into his eyes. "Why did you ask me to marry you?"

"I love you. I want you to be there with me. I…I was hoping you would want to come with me."

Daria swallowed to steady her voice. "Did you ask because I am the one person you want to spend the rest of your life with?"

Michael hesitated several seconds. "I…I wanted you to come with me to Rome."

Daria quietly closed the box and gently pushed Michael's hand back. "Then you weren't asking for the right reason. I'm sorry."

Michael looked at the box. "I don't understand."

"You should be asking because you want to be with me for the rest of your life, not just the next three years."

"I guess I was kind of thinking…"

"No, you weren't. Either we go to Rome and give up my dreams, or we stay here and give up yours. I can't give up my dreams, they've been too important to me for too long. My conscience won't let met ask you to give up your dream."

"Then what…"

"We recognize." Daria whispered. "We recognize that we've reached the end. We almost had what it took, but it wasn't quite enough. Circumstances intervened. Either route we take now will leave one of us resentful."

"It sounds like you want to break up."

Daria barely nodded. "I'm afraid so." She closed her eyes and braced herself. "It'll be better to stop now, before we make a bigger mess…that will hurt even more." With her jaw held tight against trembling, she whispered, "Good bye, Michael."

Daria rose from her seat, and walked away at a slow, even pace; her face an iron mask of control.

Michael sat still as he watched her leave. "Damn you." He struck his leg with his fist. "You can't…" He opened the ring box and looked in. "…Can't you see how important you are?" He closed the box and shoved it into his pocket. "Be that way. Keep on thinking about yourself." He walked back to his dorm. Quietly, he sung in his very rarely used, clear tenor:

_O Fortuna  
__velut luna  
__statu variabilis,  
__semper crescis  
__aut decrescis;  
__vita detestabilis  
__nunc obdurate  
__et tunc curat  
__ludo mentis aciem,  
__egestatem,  
__potestatem  
__dissolvit ut glaciem.  
__Sors immanis  
__et inanis,  
__rota tu volubilis,  
__status malus,  
__vana salus  
__semper dissolubilis  
__obumbrata  
__et velata  
__michi quoque niteris;  
__nunc per ludum  
__dorsum nudum  
__fero tui sceleris.  
__Sors salutis  
__et virtutis  
__michi nunc contraria,  
__est affectus  
__et defectus  
__semper in angaria.  
__Hac in hora  
__sine mora  
__corde pulsum tangite;  
__quod per sortem  
__sternit fortem,  
__mecum omnes plangite!_

* * *

Karen Myerson wearily trudged down the hall toward her room. "Only the first day? Oh, man. At this rate, I'm not going to survive the week." She opened the door and found Daria sitting on her bed, surrounded by diary volumes. "Hey, you don't look so good."

Daria looked up with moist eyes. "I broke up with Michael."

Karen waved her hands in front of her chest. "Repeat that. That sounded like you broke up with Michael."

"You heard right." Daria gave a rueful laugh. "Finals week seems to be the time for breakups. I broke up with Tom during finals. Remind me to skip this part next year."

"What in the flying hell happened?"

"He accepted an internship to study archeology in Rome."

"Where did that crap come from?"

"Something he applied for before he knew me. He'd been wait-listed, and forgot about it."

"But he got in anyway."

"Just my luck."

"And he wanted to break up with you to go?"

"No." Daria looked down at her folded hands. "He wanted to marry me."

Karen's face lit up momentarily. "Oh, My God!" Then, her face clouded and her eyes dropped. "You said no."

Daria gently nodded. "What would I do in Rome?"

Karen looked surprised. "What would you do in Rome?" After a moment of thought, she continued, quieter, "Uh…yeah. What would you do? You'd need to find a new school…damn."

"That's a good word for the situation."

"How long?"

"Three years."

"Did you talk about a long-distance relationship?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"How could it work?"

"I don't know, but you could at least try."

"Why? He is still going away. This is clearly a big dream of his. I couldn't ask him to give it up. But, I can't just drop my dreams here, either. If either of us gave up a dream, they would resent the other. I never want to resent Michael; he has been much too good a gentleman for that. And…I hope he never resents me. What else was there to do?"

"Not give up?"

"Seeing each other a couple times a year, at best? It just wouldn't work."

"I don't think you should be quitting so easily."

Daria pointedly returned her attention to writing in her diary.

* * *

Jane Lane knocked on the door of Daria's room. It was pulled open without comment. She looked in to see Daria seated at her work desk. The first thing to catch Jane's notice was the absence of a green pendant around her best friend's neck. A gift from Michael that Daria hadn't been without for almost five months. "Daria, how're you holding up? I heard what happened yesterday."

Daria tiredly rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, friends can be pesky."

"That is just what you need."

Daria snorted. "Thanks."

"When you have a serious problem, you still try to bottle everything up."

"I guess."

"I know." Jane pulled the other chair up and sat near Daria. "I don't have a clue of what to say. But I'm here to at least listen."

Daria pulled a slice of pizza from a box on her dresser. "Help yourself."

Jane grabbed a slice and took a bite. Speaking around it, she mumbled, "Thanks."

Daria continued to study for another five minutes, taking tiny nibbles from the slice of pizza. Finally, she turned toward Jane and softly said, "What hurt the most was that he decided without talking to me first."

"Like Tom."

"Yes. He decided to go, and then tried to come up with a way to get me to go with him."

Jane nodded. "One hell of a way to try to get you to go."

Daria nodded and looked at Jane in dead seriousness. "I almost said yes."

"Daria!"

"But…I just couldn't. I would be so lost and useless there. You know how I can get; I'd be at his throat inside a year."

Jane raised a grim, half-smile. "The sad thing is...you're right."

"And he has such good…that ring was gorgeous."

"He already had a ring? Damn, he was serious."

"That's him."

"I noticed you don't have the necklace on."

Daria shook her head. "It hurt too much."

Jane frowned in sympathy. "I guess I should have seen that."

"I miss it."

"And him?"

Daria rubbed her eyes. "Much more than what I felt when I saw Trent go out with Monique, or when I last saw Tom. Those hurt; this…is pain."

Jane put an arm around Daria's shoulder. "Damn. I'm sorry."

Daria looked down at her lap and barely whispered, "Or if his reason had not been to get me to go to Rome."

"What was that?"

Daria looked at her desk. "Hmm? Oh, not much. I'm talking to myself again."

"Daria."

Daria turned to Jane. "Nothing much. Glad to have a friend watching out for me."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for."

Daria gave her a brief smile.

"Although, you may want to try to talk to him again."

"The reason being?"

"I bet he's hurting as much as you are. Give yourselves another chance."

"I don't see how it would work. But, thanks for trying. If you don't mind, I do need to keep studying. My concentration hasn't been the best lately."

* * *

Dr. Lester Killarny sat with his hands clasped in front, looking across his desk at Daria, who was clad in a pressed, green dress shirt and a long black skirt. He said, "I'm glad Dr. Miller pointed you in our direction. With this position only funded for part-time, we've had a devil of a time finding someone."

Daria asked in a quiet deadpan. "I'm surprised you haven't had more students apply."

He weakly smiled. "We have, but none have had your level of proficiency on the test."

"Oh."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you don't mind my asking, you don't seem overly enthused about this position. Why did you apply?"

Daria roused briefly. "Oh, I am interested. It's…that I have some personal issues distracting me."

He nodded. "Think they will be cleared up enough for you to start next week?"

"I'm going to be pretty busy with apartment hunting and moving, finding a car, and bringing stuff from my parent's house in Lawndale. I should be available at the beginning of the following week, though."

"Very good. I'll see you then."

It suddenly dawned on Daria. "I'm hired?"

Dr. Killarny raised an eyebrow. "Yes. You really are distracted."

Daria looked down. "Um…yeah. I do seem to be." She looked up. "Thanks. I should be thinking more clearly by then."

He extended a hand. "Glad to have you on the team."

* * *

By Thursday, the room had all the appearance of a disaster, just as it had at the end of fall finals. Food boxes, bottles, cans and cups were haphazardly strewn about. A scattering of clothing along the floor looked every bit like some amoeba-like creature crawling out of the laundry basket in Daria's closet. Faintly looking like a part of the disaster, she sat on her bed attempting to study for her last final.

The telephone ringing brought an angry look, and she pulled it off the cradle in frustration. "Yeah."

Tom Sloane jumped at the abrupt greeting. "Daria, Tom. Did I call at a bad time?"

Daria's eyes blazed in frustration. "You can say that. Right now you are prob…"

"Should I try again later?"

Daria closed her eyes and felt her shoulders fall. "No. On second thought, you might be just the person to talk to right now."

"Something's up. I'm all ears."

Daria sighed deeply. "Though from your perspective, you may not want to hear about it."

"I may not, but I'm willing. For a good friend."

Daria sighed. "You remember I told you I was seeing someone?"

"Um…yeah. This doesn't sound good."

"I broke up with him Monday."

"I'm sorry."

Daria tapped her hand on her knee. "After he asked me to marry him."

There was several seconds of silence, followed by a low whistle. "I think you may need to fill me in a bit more on this."

Daria inhaled deeply. "It started when he got accepted to a school in Europe." Daria produced a sad laugh. "Some people do get in from the wait list."

The irony certainly was not missed by Tom. "Damn."

Daria gave him a detailed account of Monday, and how she had felt since. As she recounted the story, she gradually leaned over to lie on the bed, pulling into a loose fetal position.

"So that's it. I haven't seen, nor heard from him since."

"I'll admit; he did pull something like my stupid moves…although, on a grander scale."

"I didn't mean it that way," was her quiet response.

"Speaking from a guy point of view, go and give him another chance."

"Why, he hasn't made any attempt to talk to me this week either."

"Daria, you emotionally kicked him where it hurts most."

"Damn."

"Daria, you gave me a lot of second chances. I may have blown all of them, but don't hold it against this guy."

"Hmm."

"Does he have a track record of screw-ups like I did?"

"No."

"I know he made up a lot of ground in the bad move department with this, but I still think you should…at least talk to him."

"I…oh…crap."

"That sounds like you agree with me."

"I guess it would take an expert at relationship gaffs and who knows me rather well, to point that out."

"At your service."

"Okay then. It's unanimous. Karen, Jane, and you all agree I should try to talk to Michael again."

"Sounds like I'm in good company. What are you going to do about it?"

"Head over after my last final. Which, starts in twenty minutes."

"I better let you go."

"I guess. Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Good luck."

"Good-bye, Tom."

Daria uncurled and hung up the phone. She gathered her exam materials and headed out of the room.

* * *

The RA looked up from his desk. "He moved out this morning."

Daria stared, incredulous. "No."

"He had everything already packed when he got back from his last final. Grabbed a couple of spare hands and carried it down to a cab in about fifteen minutes. Said he was able to get an earlier flight home," the RA looked at his watch, "Should be leaving about now."

Her stomach dropped. "Damn."

Daria noticed a medium-height, somewhat overweight blond man approach, whom she recognized as Michael's roommate. She asked, "Ken, did Michael say anything before he left?"

Ken glared at Daria with unrestrained malice. "Way to go. I hope he at least passed his finals. You screwed with his brain real good. I've never actually seen somebody puke over breaking up with a girl before. Congratulations." He turned and walked away before she could respond.

Daria stared at his retreating form in horrified silence. Finally, she walked outside and looked up toward the northeast, to see a westbound airliner rising from Logan Airport. Daria remembered a song from a tape Trent had played when he drove Jane and her up to Boston in January.

_Maybe I'll see you again baby  
And maybe I won't  
Maybe you've bought your ticket  
Gone back to Detroit  
Airplanes make strangers of us all  
Give us distance  
Much too easily. _

Jim says some destinies  
Should not be delivered  
But you and I seen now baby  
That still they are  
Winning it makes losers of us all  
'cause the dice roll  
So indifferently.

_Well, I'll wrap myself in cities I travel  
I'll wrap myself in dreams  
I'll wrap myself in solitude  
But I wish I could wrap myself  
In thee. _

Tonight it's hot, without you  
Tomorrow'll be cold  
Winter will come along  
Driven by snow  
Love it makes strangers of us all  
When we part  
Oh so thoughtlessly

_Well, I'll wrap myself in cities I travel  
I'll wrap myself in dreams  
I'll wrap myself in solitude  
But I wish I could wrap myself  
In thee.  
_

_Once we breathed the breath  
Of sweet surrender  
Pure, pure arab air filled our  
Atmosphere  
But pride it makes stars of us all  
Until we fall  
For everyone to see._

She stopped and closed her eyes as she worked to control her emotions. After suppressing the remainder of the song, she continued across the Quad toward her dorm.

* * *

_O Fortuna_, from _Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi_ in the _Songs From Benedictbeuern_. Set to music by Carl Orff as _Carmina Burana_. Translated as:

O Fortune,  
variable  
as the moon  
always dost thou  
wax and wane.  
Detestable life,  
first dost thou mistreat us,  
and then, whimsically,  
thou heedest our desires.  
As the sun melts the ice  
so dost thou dissolve  
both poverty and power  
Monsterous  
and empty fate,  
Thou, turning wheel  
art mean,  
voiding  
good health at thy will  
Veiled  
in obscurity,  
thou dost attack  
me also  
To thy cruel pleasure  
I bare my back.  
Thou dost  
withdraw  
my health and virtue  
thou dost  
threaten  
my emotion and weakness with torture.  
At this hour,  
therefore, let us  
pluck the strings without delay  
Let us mourn  
together,  
for fate crushes the brave.

* * *

_In Thee_ By A. Lanier, performed by Blue Oyster Cult – copyright Sony Music

Thanks to comments and suggestions from: Kristen Bealer, Isa Yo-Jo, Mahna Mahna, Steven Galloway, Ranchoth, Mike Nassour, Decelaraptor, milderbeast, The Angst Guy, Greystar, Ranger Thorne, Hiergargo, and renfield1969 at PPMB

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Deref, Mike Nassour, Mr. Orange and Cheshire Cat for beta reading and additional commentary.

October 2004  
Revised February 2005


	18. Prom Quinn

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the eighteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Prom Quinn**

"Well guys, what do you think?" Quinn Morgendorffer asked her friends, Stacy Rowe, Tiffany Blum-Deckler, and Sandi Griffin. The young red-head stood before them in a pale blue prom gown. Perfectly cut and expertly fitted.

Stacy's hands went to her cheeks. "Quinn! That is so perfect!"

Tiffany looked intently for a second. "Yeah…perfect."

Sandi carefully walked around Quinn. "I must say, that is an excellent choice of gown, almost as good as mine."

Quinn smiled in pleasure. "Thanks, guys." She moved in front of a three-panel mirror and spun before it.

Stacy looked again at the dress. "That is so beautiful. But, how can you afford something like this? My parents would have a fit."

"I've got a plan, don't worry."

Tiffany said, "But…won't they notice?"

Quinn smiled. "My Dad will be too distracted."

Sandi put her hands on her hips. "Quinn, don't you think you should share such valuable techniques for getting major purchases past our parents."

Quinn got a little nervous. "Um…Sandi. This is kind of a one-use plan. It wouldn't work for any of you."

Sandi continued, "Why don't you let us be the judge of that."

"It requires an older sister…off to college."

"Are you using that…?" Sandi stopped, and started again. "You mean your sister would actually help you with something like this?"

"Um. No. She doesn't know."

Sandi raised an eyebrow. "Ahh. You've got some dirt on her."

"Yeah, kind of. By the way, who's taking you to the prom, Sandi?"

Sandi stood proud. "I'm making a careful appraisal of the applicants, and expect to complete it by Tuesday. You?"

"I don't know, yet." Quinn looked at the other two girls. "What about you?"

Stacy smiled. "I'm going with Joey."

Tiffany tilted her head. "I'm going with Jeffy."

Stacy looked questioningly, "Quinn, I'm surprised they didn't ask you."

"Well, I…guess they really wanted to go with each of you. Have fun." _I hope I can find somebody._

* * *

Quinn quietly opened the front door of her home. Her move toward the stairs was stopped by her father's voice. "Quinn! How's it going?" Jake crossed the distance between the sofa and the front door quickly.

Quinn smiled at him sweetly. "Hi, Daddy. I had a nice afternoon with my friends and I'm going upstairs to study for tomorrow's history test."

"Good for you. Hey, that looks like a garment bag. Pick up something special for the prom next Saturday?"

"Yeah, Daddy. My prom dress. I need to get it hung on a rack soon. Don't want any unsightly wrinkles."

"Sure." As Quinn began to ascend the stairs, Jake asked, "Quinn, didn't I let you have my gold card this morning?"

Quinn turned. "Yeah, that's right." Quinn removed the card from her purse and handed it to Jake. "Thanks."

Before she began to move, Jake asked, "Uh, did you buy it on my card?"

Quinn turned and smiled. "Daddy, did Daria call while I was gone?"

"No, were you expecting a call?"

"Well, kind of - a little girl talk."

"Oh, sure. Now about that…"

Quinn partially turned away and spoke in a mutter carefully measured to just be heard by Jake. "I mean, I would expect her to talk to her own sister about the first time she slept with a boy…" _Even if it was completely innocent and nothing happened between them._

"Gahhh!"

"Oops. Sorry Daddy. I need to stop talking to myself like that."

Jake grasped the railing. "Daria…slept…Gahhhh! I need to call…"

"Daddy, she's having finals this week, maybe you should wait..."

"But…No, I need to find out now."

"Daddy, do you want to upset her before her big tests?"

"What?"

"Affect her grades…You want her to keep that four-point-oh average, don't you?"

"Oh…um…yeah. Better not upset her. I better wait until the end of the week."

Quinn rapidly moved up the stairs and secured the door to her room. She gave herself a small grin as she hung up her gown. "That is going to be one interesting conversation between Dad and Daria." She removed her history books and began to prepare to study. "Only Demartino would give us a test on Monday morning." Quinn's lips formed a grim smile. "I probably shouldn't do tricks like that to Daria, but she can handle it. But, she will make me pay for it." Quinn sat at her desk and began to review notes. A small photo of Daria caught her eye. Quinn folded her arms on the desk, rested her weight on them and addressed the photo. "How do you get so lucky?"

* * *

Quinn nervously noted the banner in the hallway in front of the main office of Lawndale High.

**Senior Prom 2000  
**"**The Future Is Ours"  
****Saturday, May 6**

A loud crowd was formed under the banner, intent upon the office door. Quinn approached a blond-haired boy. "Jamie, what's going on?"

He turned. "Hi, Quinn. A bunch of police went into the office a few minutes ago."

"But, they took Ms Li's computers already, what are they after this time?"

"I don't know. This grading mess is a bummer. The whole football team had to take a bunch of extra tests. I hope I passed, I don't want to go to summer school."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Jamie."

"You remembered my name!"

"It's been a lot easier when you're not part of a crowd."

"Uh…sure."

"Going to the prom with anyone?"

"Yeah, Brenda."

Quinn felt a touch sadder. "So, you got over my sister?"

Jamie looked down at that comment. "I guess it was silly. All because I saw that picture in your house last summer."

Quinn placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be hard on yourself. She is very pretty when she allows it to be seen. It just shows you have good taste."

A movement in the crowd broke the conversation. Two uniformed police officers were escorting a handcuffed Ms. Li out of the office. A man in a grey suit followed. Li's face was red in fury. "You'll pay for this! This…this is outrageous! I'm going to have the badge of each one of you! I didn't give you permission to be on school property!"

* * *

After school that day, Quinn sat across the kitchen table from Kevin Thompson. She was putting away books while Kevin began to clear empty soda cans. Quinn looked at Kevin with a bit of compassion. "I heard that some of the football players are blaming you for Ms. Li's arrest and Coach Gibson's firing."

"I guess I am to blame."

"Why?"

"Uh…cause, I played along all the time."

"So did all those other players. That makes them just as guilty."

"Yeah."

"You and your father made a mistake by going along, but you were just the one that got caught in the middle when a teacher decided to say no."

"Hey, you kind of sounded like Daria there."

Quinn shook her head and rested it on her palm. "I did, didn't I?"

Kevin grinned.

Quinn looked at him. "Say, you don't seem to be excited about the prom."

Kevin shrugged. "Why? I'm not going."

Quinn was surprised. "I didn't think people were holding this mess against you like that."

"Nahh. Not that. Who wants to go with a twenty year-old loser?"

"You haven't asked anyone?"

"Nope. Like I said, why bother?"

Quinn was silent.

"At least I went last year with Britt."

Quinn gave him a sour look. "Anyway, good luck with Mr. O'Neill's quiz tomorrow. See you on Wednesday."

* * *

Helen Morgendorffer held the cordless telephone as she spoke to Quinn and Jake, who were sitting in the living room. "I was thinking about calling Daria to see how her finals are going. Anyone else want to talk?"

Quinn saw a slight twitch in the copy of the _Lawndale Sun-Herald_ that Jake was reading. She leaned over the back of the sofa. "Mo-om. You know how Daria gets if you interrupt her studying. Why don't we just wait until they're done before calling? That way we can also make plans for car shopping next week."

"But, I'm sure she will like hearing a friendly voice during this time."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "And you think she will consider us friendly voices?"

"Quinn!"

Quinn raised her hands, palms up. "Mom, she has Jane, Karen, and that boyfriend of hers in Boston. She'll be fine."

"Oh, maybe you're right. But I will call her on Friday."

"Sure." _Hopefully they won't make me change plans the day before prom…but I don't find a date, it won't matter._

* * *

Claire Defoe stared at the microphone. "I wish I had Jane here to fill in my class instead of that substitute." She keyed the switch on the microphone. "Good morning, everybody. This is Claire Defoe, the Acting Principal. As most of you are aware, Ms. Li was placed under arrest yesterday…"

She remembered the day before.

* * *

In the lounge, various teachers were busily discussing Li's arrest and the fallout it could have among the faculty. Many had either voluntarily, or through coercion, participated in the grade fixing. Superintendent Cartwright walked in and asked everyone but Claire to leave. He turned to her. "Ms. Defoe. The grading scandal appears to have run rather deep in this school. As far as can be determined by the last few years' grades, you've been one of the few not participating."

"Yes, Mr. Cartwright. I was not aware of it."

"Among the teachers not implicated in this scandal, you have the highest seniority and no disciplinary actions. Therefore, I'm naming you as Acting Principal until the end of the school year. We should be able to hire a new principal over the summer. Mind you, if you do a good job this next month, an application for permanent status will be warmly received by the school board."

Claire was shocked. "Me?"

"Yes, Ms. Defoe. You're our best option. You have the seniority and a clean record. Both are critically needed, now."

"What about Anthony Demartino?"

"He has too many disciplinary actions against him. Plus that little stay in the Brookside Rest Home a couple years ago."

"Oh, yeah. What about Janet Barch?"

"Do you really want every male on this campus castrated?"

"She is a little strident. What about Timothy O'Neill?"

"His…involvement with Ms. Barch would mean her reassignment to avoid any nepotism…and, I can't get any other school to take her."

"Diane Bennett?"

"She handled the books during the Ultra Cola incident last year. We've begun investigating that incident a little deeper now, too."

Claire looked down in defeat. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow. We'll bring in a substitute to cover your classes for the rest of the year."

* * *

Sandi sat up straight at the lunch table, with Stacy, Tiffany and Quinn. "After very careful consideration, I have made my decision. I will be attending the prom with Robert."

All three looked at Sandi with incredulous stares.

Sandi added, "He is a fine and upstanding gentleman; we will make an exemplary looking couple."

Stacy said, "Well, he is always so polite."

"He does look good," Tiffany added.

"I think he will make a wonderful date for you, Sandi." _You'd so die if I reminded you I once set him up with my sister._

Sandi looked sidelong at Quinn. "Well, have you decided on a date yet?"

"Um…no…not yet."

"Quinn. The prom is in only four days."

"I know. I'm just having a difficult time deciding."

"It sounds more like you can't find one."

Stacy interjected. "Sandi, there's no reason to say things like that."

"Stacy…" Sandi glared.

Stacy flinched, but recovered. "Sandi, please. I'm sure Quinn will have a date for the prom."

Sandi backed down in surprise. "Just a thought."

Tiffany looked at Stacy, and smiled.

* * *

Charlene Thompson was preparing to drive Quinn home from her Wednesday tutoring session with her son. The two teens were talking as they walked to the car.

Kevin said, "People are saying you don't have a date for the prom."

Quinn tossed her hair to one side. "You know how school rumors are."

"Whew. I was worried there."

Quinn gave him a small smile.

Kevin asked, "So, who are you going with?"

"Well…um…I know it's late, but…I'm still comparing offers."

"Oh, yeah. Good night, Quinn."

"Good night."

Quinn got into the passenger side of Charlene's gold sedan. As they began the drive to the Morgendorffer home, Charlene looked at Quinn. "You're not fooling me. You don't have a date for the prom and you don't have any waiting offers."

Quinn gave her a weak smile and sadly said, "No."

"You could go with Kevin."

"He said he wasn't interested in the prom. He went last year with Brittany."

The car came to a stop at a traffic light; Charlene turned her torso to face Quinn. "He's lonely. He went from Big-Man-On-Campus to outcast. He doesn't want to admit how lonely he's been. Outside of you coming over for tutoring, he doesn't see anybody."

"Mrs. Thompson, I know you're trying to help. But, I think that dating Kevin will make tutoring difficult."

"Quinn, I've realized that you two won't make a good couple like that. But, a prom is not a lifetime. Think about it?"

Quinn nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Quinn sat at her kiosk in the Children's Department of Cashman's. "Two days to go, and no date. Well, that dress is going to do me a lot of good." She watched parents deal with their children, some with patience and others with annoyance. Between ringing up customers, she thought back on how her dating life had changed so much in the last year. She had gone from a having date or three every night…to not one in the last month. The hypothetical 'biggest' date of high school was approaching. It was looking like she would spend the evening studying instead of attending, just like she had much of the last few months. _Daria, I am becoming like you._ Quinn smiled. _Daria, even if you don't have any ideas, talking with you always seems to help. I'll call you when I get home tonight._

* * *

Karen Myerson, Daria's roommate, answered the phone. "Hello."

"Hey, Karen. Is Daria around?"

"Well…um she is. But she isn't talking to anyone right now."

"This is Quinn…her sister," Quinn peevishly responded.

"I know. She isn't talking to anybody, including me or Jane."

Quinn became instantly concerned. "She's not talking to either of you?"

"No. Quinn…" Karen dropped her voice and cupped her hand over the mouthpiece to muffle it further. She looked to the other end of the room, where Daria was hunched over at her desk, writing with the silver fountain pen she preferred for her diary. Quietly, Karen said, "She and Michael broke up Monday. Something more happened today, I haven't been able to get a word out of her."

"No way."

"I wish I were kidding."

"Any idea of what happened?"

"He got accepted to an overseas college. The rest gets long, it may be best to wait. I would rather Daria gave you the details, when she's ready."

Quinn felt her stomach churn. "She must be…crap; she doesn't take being hurt well. Despite all her outer toughness, when she's really hurt…" Quinn remembered getting her gown past her father. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

"I know. She really is taking this hard."

"No, something else. Damn. Karen, do not, under any circumstances, allow my father to talk to her until I say the coast is clear."

Cautious, Karen asked, "Why?"

"Trust me on this; don't let him talk to her."

Probing, "What did you do?"

"I…wanted to distract Daddy from how much my prom gown cost…"

"Spill it."

"I said…that I heard she and Michael slept together at Jane's birthday party."

"So did Derek and I. It…you left out a few important details, didn't you?"

"Um…yeah. That's why it was a distraction. I didn't know…"

"Okay, I understand. I'll make sure he doesn't talk to her. You had better get the full story to him as soon as possible. I don't want to be in your shoes if Daria finds out."

"I don't either. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"You couldn't. But, you better cover yourself fast."

"Are you three still coming to Lawndale next week?"

"As far as I know. Though, unless we can get Daria to talk, apartment hunting is going to be difficult."

"Please, you and Jane keep an eye on her."

"We will."

"Thanks."

"Quinn, did you need your sister for something?"

"A little advice, but…it's nothing."

"I'll give it a shot, if you don't mind."

* * *

A few minutes later, Quinn steeled herself and dialed the phone again.

Kevin answered, "Hello."

"Hi. It's Quinn."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Would you like to go to the prom?"

* * *

Quinn walked down the stairs, gown in one hand, and receipt in the other. To the observer, she had all the looks of someone approaching their execution. Jake was watching a baseball game on television, Helen reading a stack of papers from her briefcase. Quinn stepped in front. "Mom, Dad, I…need to tell you something."

Helen looked up. "Oh, is that your prom dress? Can we see it?"

Jake said, "Hey, I thought you picked that up Sunday?"

Helen rolled her eyes and looked at Jake. "Where would you get such an idea?"

Quinn came forward one step. "Mom…he's right. I bought this Sunday."

Helen looked between the two. "Oh." She turned to Jake. "I'm sorry."

Quinn handed Jake the receipt. "Daddy, I spent…more than I planned on."

Jake looked at the paper, sputtered, "Gack!" and recoiled back.

Helen looked over. "Oh, my. Quinn, that is…a lot more than you planned on."

Quinn looked down. "I know. I'm going to pay the rest from my car money."

"That's very mature of you, Quinn. It makes both of us proud." Helen smiled.

Quinn moved closer to Jake. "Daddy, what I said about Daria; that was only to distract you."

Helen narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "What's this?"

Quinn explained the prank she pulled on Jake to get the receipt past him Sunday, and that the incident between Daria and Michael was innocent.

Helen shook her head. "I swear, with you two getting along better, these pranks seem to be getting worse. Oh, well, no harm done." She gave Quinn a skin-rending stare. "This time."

Helen and Jake conferred for a minute, after which, Helen said, "Quinn, since you have agreed to pay back the excess and you came forward with this, we are going to let things stand."

Quinn gave them a thankful smile. "Okay." She turned and went back upstairs. "I want to get my dress hung back up."

Helen looked up the stairs at Quinn, and then quietly followed. She knocked on Quinn's door and opened it. "Quinn?"

Quinn looked over from her closet. "Yes?"

"What's happened with your sister?"

Quinn's voice cracked a little. "Why would you ask that?"

Helen walked over in front of Quinn. "Because you would not own up to something like that, except to protect Daria."

Quinn leaned against the edge of the closet door. "She broke up with Michael."

"Oh, dear."

"According to Karen, she's…well…she's not talking to anyone…even her or Jane."

Helen took Quinn's hands. "Thanks for looking out for your sister. She certainly doesn't need one of your father's…rants…at a time like this."

Quinn muttered. "I still feel bad about doing it."

Helen raised one eyebrow. "Good, don't do it again."

"What about Daria?"

"She's with her friends. Karen and Jane will keep an eye on her. And, I'll call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mom."

* * *

Quinn grabbed Kevin in the hallway immediately after school. "We're leaving. We have to find you a tuxedo, and…I've got one day to teach you how to properly behave at something like this."

"Whaa?"

"No discussion."

"Uh…sure."

Quinn pulled him toward his jeep. "First thing, you will have the top and the doors on that thing tomorrow. My hair and gown will not be exposed to the wind. Is that clear?"

Kevin nodded.

"Good. Second. You will…" Quinn looked at him with ice-cold eyes, "…under no circumstances call me 'babe'."

Kevin nodded.

"Good. Third. You will learn how to have a nice evening with a lady, without making out."

"Really?"

"Or you will die trying."

"Eep!"

* * *

Helen greeted Quinn as she came down the stairs Saturday morning. "I talked to Daria last night. She's hoping to be here on Monday; Karen's brother will be driving everyone."

"How's she doing?"

"She could be better. But, she wants you to have fun tonight."

"Did she really say that?"

"After…a little motherly prodding."

"Mom…I…"

Helen held up a hand. "Quinn, your concern is touching. But, this is a special day for you. You should enjoy it. Daria will understand."

"She never went to her prom."

"True, but she and Tom did have a nice evening together…on their terms. You can show your concern by being supportive when she gets home."

"Okay."

"You brought your dress down, aren't you getting ready a little early?"

"Mom, I only have the rest of today to teach Kevin not to behave…poorly. I'm going to get dressed over there. Mrs. Thompson said it would be fine."

"Sure, Sweetie. Have a fun prom."

* * *

Quinn's face twisted in pain as Kevin stepped on her toes once again. He frowned at himself. "Sorry."

Quinn had an odd vision cross through her mind. Eliza Doolittle teaching a clumsy Professor Higgins to dance in _My Fair Lady_. "Kevin, let's try again. This time, I'll lead."

"Can't we slow dance like everyone else?"

"Over your dead body."

* * *

Clinging to Kevin's arm, Quinn untangled her feet from the jeep and eased them onto the ground. She got up and blew the hair out of her eyes. "Kevin, allow the lady to pull herself up out of the car; don't pull her out of the car."

"Oops?"

"Yeah, oops."

* * *

"Palm up, that's right." Quinn placed her hand on Kevin's. She flinched as he gripped her hand a little too tight. "Not so hard. That's better."

Kevin looked at her with puppy eyes.

Quinn motioned for him to walk. "Now forward…slow down…more…my legs are not as long as yours…slow…" She kicked the back of his leg. "…down."

"Ouch!"

"When you escort a lady, you stay beside her."

Kevin rubbed his calf. "Um…yeah. I get that now."

* * *

Kevin rolled the jeep to a stop in the high school parking lot. He hopped out and jogged around to the passenger door, opening it. Quinn stepped out, braced herself against his offered hand, and gave him a smile.

Kevin had one of his goofy grins. "Hey, Quinn. Did I get it right this time?"

Quinn nodded. "Yes, you did."

"All ri…" Kevin stopped himself.

Quinn slightly shook her head. "Very good."

Kevin grinned again.

The two made a striking pair as they approached the gymnasium; Quinn in her professionally tailored gown, Kevin in an excellently fitted tuxedo. Finding one at such a late date had been difficult, probably impossible for someone without Quinn's fashion connections in Lawndale.

Sandi, Tiffany, and Stacy in exquisite gowns and their dates, Robert, Joey and Jeffy in tuxedos, stood near the entrance. Sandi gasped as she saw the two enter. Quinn's gown clearly topped hers. "Quinn! You're here with…"

Quinn smiled graciously. "Yes, I am."

Tiffany said, "Kevin…he's cute."

Stacy looked a little surprised. "Wow. I didn't expect that."

Quinn continued her smile. "I do like to surprise, don't I?"

Stacy smiled at that. "Yes, you do."

Jeffy and Joey nodded at Kevin, who smiled in return. "Hey, guys." Robert glowered at Kevin.

Giving Kevin a raised eyebrow and slight nod toward the inside of the gym, Quinn placed her hand in his extended one, and they entered the prom with controlled poise, if uncertain on his part. She whispered to Kevin. "Just like we practiced. Wonderful."

Nearing the refreshments, Quinn asked, "Kevin, please…could you get me a small soda with a slice of lemon?"

"Sure thing, b…" Kevin caught his tongue. "Yes, I will." He moved to the stand and selected a drink and found a slice of lemon from a plate near the iced tea. Quickly, he brought it back and offered it. "Quinn."

She smiled. "Thank you." She linked her arm with his and the two of them began to mingle among their fellow students.

* * *

Ms. Defoe walked up onto the small stage and the microphone stand.

Sandi looked on in semi-horrified fascination. "Oh…my. That dress has got to be at least ten years out of style."

Tiffany looked up. "It is so eighties…but…it looks good on her."

Sandi glared at Tiffany. "How can…"

Stacy also looked. "You know guys, Tiffany's right. On Ms. Defoe, that does look good."

Sandi crossed her arms and looked again. "I guess. That style does work for somebody like…her."

The microphone gave a short squeak when Ms. Defoe touched it. "Hello, everybody." She looked at a sheet of paper. "I'm happy to announce that the Prom Queen and King are…Ms. Rhiannon Jenkins and Mr. John Windham."

Quinn nodded her head, smiled and clapped. _Jodie Landon's student government protégé and her boyfriend. What a surprise._

General applause greeted the two as they climbed to the stage. Rhiannon had long blond hair that flowed across the back of a crimson gown. He escort, John, was modestly handsome with medium length black hair. They accepted their crowns and moved to the center stage to dance.

As the slow music started, Quinn carefully placed Kevin's hand on her waist. "Remember, it stays right there." Quinn took his other hand and began to lead Kevin in a careful, slow waltz. She quietly told him, "Don't worry, nobody will really notice I'm leading." While the crowd moved in slightly groping dance poses, the two of them waltzing stood out as an island of elegance in a sea of the mundane.

* * *

Arm linked with Kevin's, Quinn slowly walked to the jeep as the prom broke up. She could hear Sandi grumbling. "Really…another student government geek as Prom Queen. It's rigged I tell you…"

Robert said, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't call me that!"

Stacy giggled as she walked by next to Joey. "You can be so funny."

Tiffany went past with Jeffy's arm low around her waist. She was saying, "Your hand…not there…"

* * *

Quinn stepped out of the jeep and held Kevin's hand. She also held a small bag in her other hand, containing her clothes from earlier in the day and a folded garment bag. "Kevin, you have been a very nice date tonight. Thank you."

"Um…you've been really a cool date, too."

"I should be heading inside." Quinn gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Kevin."

"Thanks." Kevin looked off in the distance for a moment, and then said, "Quinn. Really, thanks. I learned a lot from this. I'm not going to forget it."

Quinn turned to face him with a tired smile. "Neither am I."

* * *

Thanks to commentary from: Kristen Bealer, gearhead, Mike Nassour, Isa Yo-Jo, Milo, drmike, Decelaraptor, Sleepless, Lawndale Stalker, Mahna Mahna, Staren, ipswichfan, The Angst Guy, Greystar, DJ, MrMagnum, and Isa Yo-Jo at ppmb.

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Deref, Mike Nassour, Mr. Orange, and Cheshire Cat for beta reading and further comments.

October 2004  
Revised February 2005


	19. Seeking Hearts

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the nineteenth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Seeking Hearts**

Daria Morgendorffer sat on the edge of her dorm room bed. The young woman's auburn hair was tangled from sleep, and she still wore an inside-out blue t-shirt. She picked up the telephone from the wall mount between her and her roommate's beds. Halfway through entering digits, she stopped and pressed down the cradle. She slowly breathed for thirty seconds before releasing and entering numbers quickly. Holding her breath, she counted as the phone started ringing.

_One…_

_Two…_

Daria's heart sunk with each ring, her features appearing to wilt at regular intervals.

_Three…_

At his parents' house outside Detroit, Michael Fulton dozed in a recliner.

_Four…_

Sleep had proved too elusive for the red-headed young man, so he'd spent the previous night watching old movies and infomercials. "Hmm? Phone?"

_Five…_

He crawled out of the recliner and shuffled toward the noise.

_Six…_

As he reached for it, he recognized the incoming number on the Caller ID display. His breath caught and hand froze.

_Seven…_

_Eight…_

"It can only be her." He moved his hand to the handset.

_Nine…I can't take this. _"Damn." Shaking, she hung up the phone.

"Hello?" Michael heard a dial tone. He placed the phone down. After a couple minutes, he reached for it again, stopping inches away. He sadly shook his head and went back to the recliner.

* * *

Karen Myerson returned from the bathroom and looked at Daria sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees. Karen walked over and sat next to her dear friend. "Daria, you didn't say a word at all last night. Please tell me what's going on."

Daria looked over with exhausted eyes. "He's gone."

Karen knew this referred to Michael, the boyfriend that Daria had broken up with earlier that week. "Today's only Friday. You told me he wasn't leaving until tomorrow. I think you still have time…"

Daria cut her off. "I went over yesterday. To talk, just like you, Jane, and Tom said I should. He was already gone."

"Oh, no."

"He got a flight yesterday, probably paid a huge premium, just to make sure he could run away." Daria looked at Karen with accusing eyes. "So damn much for talking."

"I'm sorry."

Daria gave her a weak smile. "You were right; I took too long to try." She closed her eyes tightly. "Saying no to his proposal and breaking up right after. Tom was right; I emotionally kicked him in the balls." Daria opened her wet eyes. "Do you blame him for running?"

"Daria…Don't give up yet, please?"

Daria nodded. "I just tried to call his parents…no answer. I almost lost it waiting." She unhooked her arms and straightened her legs. "I'm not going to give up yet."

Karen was relieved. "Good. Now, why don't we start calling around about apartments and making appointments?"

Daria again gave a weak smile. "Keeping busy would probably be a better option."

"My brother should get here about four or five this afternoon. That will give us plenty of time to get things set up."

"Did you find him a place to stay?"

"My boss at the zoo is willing to let him stay in their spare room for a couple of days. The student living there moved out last weekend, so it's clear."

"That's real nice of her."

"I thought so."

"Fine." Daria began to get off the bed. "I remember you talking to my sister last night a couple times, thanks for putting yourself in the line of babble. Let me guess, panic over the prom?"

"Something along those lines. I did tell her about you and Michael."

"I heard, and appreciate it. I don't know if I would have been able to."

"She was worried about you."

"I knew she would. I hope she doesn't spend too much time worrying about me tomorrow."

"She was also stuck for a prom date."

Daria gave a half-hearted snort. "She was complaining about a lack of datable males last time I was in Lawndale. It seems she ran through all of them in her first three years of high school."

"She was contemplating somebody named Kevin Thompson, said you knew him."

"How are the mighty fallen. Picture a shaved Neanderthal…with repeated brain trauma."

"Well, I told her it was only for one night…"

Daria gave Karen a tiny smile. "Thanks. I needed a little cheering. Quinn going to the prom with Kevin…at least I know someone else is in misery."

* * *

"Terry!" Karen yelled as she jerked the door open and jumped at the large man standing outside. Terry Myerson stood six foot, three inches and supported 250 pounds of muscle. She hung from his neck with no visible effort on his part. He smiled under a light brown mustache that matched his short cropped hair. He hugged his sister tight and spun around. In a strong southern accent, he called out, "See, told you I could make the drive." Terry set Karen down, looked inside and tipped his cap. "You must be Daria, glad to meet you."

Daria gave him a weary smile. "Hi."

"Please, don't be overwhelmed on my account."

Karen lightly slapped her brother. "Lay off idiot, she's having a rough day."

Daria shook her head. "It's all right Karen, he couldn't know."

Terry looked confused. "Um…sorry. Don't worry about us, Lil' Sis is just acting like normal. Tell you what, you pick the place, I'll pay for dinner to make up for my bad manners."

Daria slowly got up. "Considering I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, dinner is probably a good idea."

Karen spun to face Daria. "Dammit. Don't' do things like that."

Daria shook her head. "I haven't been hungry."

Terry interrupted. "If you're hungry now, come on. You can tell me who to beat the crap out of later."

Daria gave him a curious look.

He smiled. "You have all the looks of someone with a broken heart."

Daria nodded.

He waved for her to follow. "Let's see if this good ol' boy can offend enough people to take your mind off things."

"Mind if we wait a bit? I would like Jane to come with. If I call her, she could be over in half an hour."

Terry grinned. "Not at all."

* * *

"What kind of pancake house doesn't serve grits?" Terry asked the waitress.

The fortyish waitress shook her head and responded in a strong native Boston accent. "Because we don't get much call for that stuff here."

"Can I at least get some hash browns?"

"That, we can do." The waitress looked at Daria, Jane, and Karen. "Anything else?" With no answer, she retreated toward the kitchen.

Karen looked sheepish. "Guess I should have warned you. You just can't get good grits in Massachusetts. That is, when you can find them at all."

Terry shrugged. "Oh, well. When in Rome."

Daria closed her eyes and sunk down in the seat a couple inches.

Terry looked at her with concern. "What did…?"

Jane waved a hand in front of him. "Ssh."

Karen leaned over and whispered to her brother. "Her…um…ex got accepted to a college in Rome. That's…what…"

Terry told Daria, "Just kick me next time."

She looked up. "It's a common phrase. You meant no harm."

Jane nudged Daria. "What's this I hear about your sister and Kevin? The Princess of Pleather and Mr. Dumb as a Box of Rocks?"

"I almost…almost, feel sorry for her. But, don't let that get out."

"You are getting soft."

"I'm not at my best."

Terry asked Karen. "While those two are at it, what is the plan for tomorrow?"

Karen rolled her eyes at Daria and Jane. "Show up at the dorm about eight tomorrow. Jane's going to stay over, so we can make sure she doesn't oversleep."

Jane looked over. "Hey! I resemble that."

"Daria and I culled through the for rent ads, made appointments to see what looked the best."

"Please tell me you have some clue of how to get to them. Driving my rig through some of these streets is no picnic."

"We plotted them all out on a map for you. But, we can't guarantee how wide the streets will be."

"Good enough."

* * *

A little after eight AM Saturday, Jane let Terry into Daria and Karen's room. She asked, "How's the accommodations?"

"Pretty good, Karen's boss and her husband are nice folks."

Karen got up from her desk and looked at a sheet of note paper. "We were able to get four appointments today. The first is at nine, so we better get going soon."

General assents greeted her, and soon everyone was on the way out. Just as she was about to lock the door, Daria turned to the others. "I forgot some of my notes. Go on ahead, I'll be along shortly." The rest nodded and went down the hall toward the elevator. Daria went back into the room and straight to the telephone. She stopped in front of it, rubbing her eyes. "Mom, I'm glad you called last night. This has been so much harder than breaking up with Tom. Now, I can keep trying…"

She breathed in and picked up the handset. Quickly, she dialed as fast as she could, before her motivation evaporated. The same sinking feeling hit her with each ring of the phone.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

Michael vaulted from the bed in his old room as he realized the phone was ringing. In haste, he left his glasses on the nightstand.

_Four…_

With his vision blurred, he slipped while running down the stairs.

_Five…_

Scrambling to his feet, he rubbed his bruised hip as he completed the trip.

_Six…_

With a sigh of relief, he saw the ID.

_Seven…_

He steadied his hand and grasped the receiver. "Just be honest."

_Eight. _Daria felt a wave of nausea at the lack of response. In frustration, she hung up the phone.

"Daria?" The dial tone mocked back at Michael. He slammed the handset down. "Dammit, I though you were at least a little more mature than that. This hurts enough as it is." He sat down next to the phone, shaking.

She slowly walked out of the room and locked up. "Now I have to try to put on a functional face for the day."

"Dammit, don't be afraid." Michael picked up the phone and struggled to key in each number. He could feel his heart beating as it began to ring.

_One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…nine…ten…_

He fell back in the chair.

_Eleven…twelve…thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…seventeen…eighteen…nineteen…twenty._

He placed the phone back.

* * *

The four sat at a booth in a pizza joint. The remains of a pie were scattered on a platter in the middle of the table. Jane looked at the pizza bone in her hand. "Boston obviously has a definition of roomy different from the rest of us."

Karen shook her head. "At the zoo, we put small mammals in larger enclosures than the rooms in that last place."

Daria was slowly working on her first slice. "Let's hope the next one on the list works. Or we are going to have to get real friendly with each other. We're supposed to vacate the dorms by Monday."

Karen said, "I've had nine months of sharing a room with you, that's friendly enough for me."

Terry kept looking out at his truck. The full-sized truck didn't fit well in the small parking space, the back stuck out into the lot's traffic lane. "Don't they believe in real parking spaces around here? I keep expecting one of these maniac drivers to try to take the back bumper off my truck."

Jane smirked. "That could be messy; it looks like you have a chunk of railroad track for a back bumper."

"I do, it gives me a little extra back weight for traction, and it's good for pushing farm implements."

Karen pushed his shoulder. "Plus, you use it as an anvil."

"Well…it is handy."

* * *

Daria moved her hand along the wall in the living room of the upstairs apartment. _Apartment? It's the second floor of a house_. History seeped from every corner of the 150 year old place in south Boston, from the wood wainscoting to the tall ceilings. They'd entered via an outside staircase to a door that opened into the living room, one corner of which was filled with a walled-off stairwell and access door. Past the living room was a small dining room, just beyond was the kitchen (resplendent in early seventies appliances), and attached laundry/half bath. To the left, a short hall ran parallel to the living and dining room, with one bedroom at each end and the remaining bedroom and full bathroom between. The rooms were still on the small size, but more like rooms than prison cells. Karen and Jane were wandering around in amazement, Terry stood with bemused patience.

The owner, Mrs. Lyndon, said to them, "You three seem like nice girls. Just remember, I live right underneath. I will hear any loud parties. One will get you a warning, two will get you evicted." From the sound of her voice to her poise, you knew she was from a long line of Bostonians. Every strand of her silver hair was in place, framing a thin face centered on small, round, gold-framed glasses. Her simple white blouse and blue skirt gave her understated elegance.

Daria gave her a smile. "That is something I don't think you will need to worry about with us."

"I hope so."

Daria walked over to Mrs. Lyndon. "Will there be a problem if we have an extra cable line brought in?"

"Never could understand the attraction of that cable stuff, but if you want the extra TV's…"

Daria gave her a small smile. "Sure…thanks." She walked to Karen, grabbed an arm, and pulled her over to Jane. "I take it we're all in agreement."

Jane looked around, "Are you kidding?"

Karen smiled. "This place is so cool. We have to get it."

All three turned to Mrs. Lyndon. Daria said, "We'll take it."

The older woman smiled and removed a sheaf of paper from a folder. "I'll give you a few minutes to read over the lease while I run next door to Mrs. Dillon. She's a notary."

Daria read through the lease. "She certainly believes in making sure her tenants behave."

Jane looked over her shoulder. "Yeah, a party girl like you has to be careful."

Karen looked over the other shoulder. "Is there anything really weird in there we need to worry about?"

Daria shook her head. "It's mostly standard boilerplate, plus no loud noises, unsanitary conditions, or inoperable cars in the driveway."

Jane frowned a little. "It is going to be tight. This is at the high end of our budget."

Daria looked at her. "Would you rather paint in a broom closet?"

Jane smiled back. "I said it would be tight, not that I wanted to back out."

Karen said, "I like this neighborhood, the others looked…on the scary side."

Daria took the papers to a kitchen counter and waited for Mrs. Lyndon to arrive with the neighbor. A few minutes later, the lease was signed, notarized, and three keys handed over. Mrs. Lyndon smiled. "I hope you make good neighbors. You can start moving in at any time."

Jane looked around. "You know Daria; this might be a good time to start thinking about furniture."

Terry spoke up. "There are more colleges around this town than you can shake a stick at. There have to be used furniture stores, you can get what you need there cheap. As long as you don't care that nothing matches."

Karen gave her brother a slightly disgusted look. "Or what has been done on the mattresses."

Daria put the lease papers into a folder and matched Karen's face. "I'll agree to a used frame, but a used mattress is not an option."

Terry smiled. "I won't argue with that. Hey, why don't I drive ya'll around to get some of your basics, while I'm here with my truck."

Jane smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And your strong back."

Karen slid up next to Jane. "He is married."

"I know, but I can still enjoy the view."

* * *

Karen opened her eyes as she and Derek broke off their kiss. She gave him a smile. "You take care of yourself."

He smiled back. "I will. I'll be reporting to Ft. Benning June fifth for my month of National Guard training. As soon as I can cop some leave, I'll let you know."

"I'll be there."

"I'm looking forward to meeting your parents when it's done."

"I'm going to like having you down home for a week."

"My cab is waiting to take me to the airport. I've got to go. Bye."

Karen gave him another quick kiss. "Bye"

She watched him leave with a touch of sadness. Terry walked up beside her. "We better get back up to finish getting you packed."

"Yeah."

"I like Derek. I think I'll let you keep him."

Karen punched him in the arm. "As if I would give you a choice."

* * *

_Seven…_

_Eight._

Daria laid the phone down on the cradle. "Why isn't he there?" Forcing down her emotions and rubbing her temples, she gently wrapped paper around a blue glass vase containing twelve miniature silk roses and put it in a box. "Michael, that was such a touching gift." Daria gazed upward. "Why did you have to get that damn acceptance? I'm so sorry I didn't…"

Karen walked in with her brother. "I just ran into the building super. He was letting everyone know that he'll be turning off the phone extensions at ten, except for those rooms to be occupied over the summer."

Daria looked at the phone. "I don't think we'll be getting any more calls."

Karen sat next to her. "Still no answer?"

"No."

"Have you tried emailing him?"

Daria inhaled and sighed. "We've never used anything but our Raft emails, his was deactivated. I don't know if has any others, and he doesn't have my Lawndale email."

* * *

Michael walked in front of his parents and sister as they entered the house after Sunday morning services. In anticipation, he made directly for the phone. Disappointed at the unlit display, he asked, "Who forgot to turn on the answering machine?" He heard no response from the others.

With a shrug, he sat down next to the phone and looked at it. The familiar sick feeling in his stomach returned. Looking down at his hand, Michael remembered the last time he touched Daria's.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone and dialed. _Maybe it was only bad timing. You can't make the assumption she hung up on you._ Michael's heart raced as he heard the line connect after the first ring, "Hello!"

"We're sorry. The room you are trying to reach has been vacated for the summer and the extension deactivated."

He quietly placed the handset down. "She said she was going to look for an apartment. Guess she found one. How will I….?" He slapped his forehead and rushed to the family computer. "I'm an idiot!" He made a connection and began to type after opening the email program.

**To: DLMorgendorffer raft…**

* * *

Daria folded the flaps on the box in front of her. "Last one. Let's go."

With Terry's help, they had everything moved to his truck without a hitch. The last thing Daria picked up was the section of wall padding that she'd preserved from her old bedroom in Lawndale. "I've grown a lot in this room. I'm going to miss it."

Karen put an arm around Daria's shoulder. "I found a great friend here. I'm going to miss it, too."

They quietly locked the door and went downstairs to turn in their keys. Soon after, they were seated in Terry's truck. He looked to his sister in the passenger seat. "What about Jane?"

"I'll give you directions; it's only a couple miles. I hope she's not still asleep."

"Okay. We're on the road again."

Karen frowned. "Terry, don't even think of singing."

* * *

Jane was barely dressed when they arrived. Her blue-haired roommate, CC, looked up from the box she was packing and said, "Hmm, you're right. He could be tasty."

Terry looked between the two in confusion. "Tasty?"

Karen elbowed her brother. "Be careful, or I'm telling Jill that you have a stripper lusting after you."

Terry looked more confused. CC came up and ran a finger along his arm. "Don't worry, I know better than to poach." Terry looked to his sister with wide eyes.

Karen snickered. "CC's a dancer."

Jane laughed along. "And as a good artist of the human form, appreciates quality when she sees it."

Karen laughed louder. "I wish I had a camera. Your face…"

Terry looked at his sister with a rapidly serious face. "Am I going to have to file a sexual harassment suit against you lot?"

CC burst out laughing. "Oh, he's good. Don't worry; I have a boyfriend I'm very satisfied with."

Daria quietly entered the room and picked up a box. "Is this one ready to go?"

Jane turned. "Hmm? Ah…yeah."

The general laughter died down. Karen looked at CC. "So, where are you going?"

CC pointed down. "First floor. These morons hired me as an RA for the summer. Free room and board. And, they said that 'outside employment' is not a problem as long as I put in my four hours a day at the front desk."

Jane smirked. "What a scam. Getting paid to sit on your butt and study."

CC pointed at Jane. "Hey, ex-roomie. Expect to see my arse over at your place; I will need to get out of this place on occasion."

* * *

Daria had her desktop computer unpacked and placed on an inexpensive workstation she'd purchased the day before. It was functional, if not visually pleasing; portions of veneer had pulled away to reveal the pressboard underneath.

Daria said to Jane, "We won't be able to get the cable and cable modem hooked up until we get back from Lawndale. No email until then. But, we can network the computers together and work off of a single high speed connection. With the three-way split, it'll cost each of us less than a dialup."

Jane said, "Nice. I'm beginning to like that Morgendorffer mercenary bent, when it is working in my favor. How are you going to get everything hooked up?"

"I talked to one of the techs at the school's computer lab. If we buy the parts, he'll put it together for thirty dollars and a bag of jelly donuts."

Jane raised an eyebrow.

"Jane, I told you before, throwing in the donuts gives the deal a personal touch."

She smiled at the reference to the botched hair dyeing job near the end of their junior year of high school. "I wish I'd taken your advice then."

Karen walked in, her hair tied back in red and white checked bandana. "That's all my stuff that's coming up here. Not having to take everything back to Georgia is nice. Just don't trash my computer while I'm gone."

All three were tired and sweaty from carrying their possessions upstairs. The apartment had been minimally furnished by their furniture-hunting foray the day before. Each room was supplied with a single bed, dresser and computer desk. The dining room had a small dinette set. Four folding camp chairs were in the living room. The kitchen was stocked with the array of small appliances Daria and Karen had used in their dorm.

Terry entered, tossed a sleeping bag on the living room floor and placed a cardboard box of Chinese takeout on the dining table. As the three women came out of the hall, he said, "Figure I might as well sleep here tonight instead of trying to remember the route from your boss's place." He started pulling the food out. "I really hope I got everyone's order right."

* * *

The drive from Boston to Lawndale had been uneventful, though Daria was frustrated at being unable to get to a working telephone at their fuel and lunch stops. The conversations had focused on summer plans, like Daria and Jane in summer classes, or Daria starting her new job with Raft University Press. Jane had a stack of paintings to drop off at Gary's Gallery for some extra summer cash. Karen would be working for her home town veterinarian again, only this time, she would be getting work-study credit for it. They exited the interstate and first went to drop off Jane.

Lindy's brown sedan was in the driveway as they pulled up to Casa Lane. Jane hopped out of the back seat, said, "I'll run in to see if Trent is mobile, if not, I'll make him mobile," and jogged into the house. Daria and Karen stepped out and stretched, while Terry opened the tarp over the truck bed and got Jane's luggage out.

Within a couple minutes, Jane returned with Trent. "What do you know? He was awake."

He nodded and shook hands when introduced to Terry, followed with a brief hug to Karen. He gave Daria a warm hug, and pulled away in concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Daria kept a straight face. "What makes you say that?"

Trent raised both eyebrows. "You know I'm sensitive to shifts in mood."

Daria wilted. "Michael and I…"

Trent shook his head and gave her another hug. "You're with friends."

"You tried to warn me."

"He did something romantic and stupid?"

"On a grand scale."

* * *

Daria and Karen stood next to each other in the Morgendorffer driveway. Daria set her suitcase on the ground and leaned into the truck toward Terry. "Thanks for the ride."

He gave her a broad smile. "No problem for my kid sister's friends. Hope the boyfriend problem works out for you."

Daria turned toward Karen and gave her a hug. "Take care of yourself. I would've had a hard time this year without you."

Karen returned the gesture. "And I wouldn't be coming back if it weren't for you. Thanks for holding the room for me. It has to be hitting you hard to cover two-thirds of the rent."

"Jane's also on a tight budget, but I can just pull it off. This way, I can keep my friends close."

"Do me a favor, don't give up."

Daria looked directly at Karen. "I won't. I hurt him and I will…I will do my best…"

Karen smiled. "Just don't do anything rash."

"I'll keep that in mind." Daria turned more serious. "If I can save this mess, be ready for me to be gone at times. I…will have to travel to see him; I can't expect him to do all the traveling."

"So, you are considering a long-distance relationship?"

Daria sighed. "I am. I know it can be done, my friends Jodie and Mack have."

"I know it's not the best thing."

"But, what choice do I have?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to miss Derek this summer."

Daria softly said, "I was afraid…the distance would cause us to drift apart. I couldn't face that, so I ended things then."

"So that was it?"

Daria closed her eyes. "It made sense…I thought it made sense. But, it doesn't. I can't continue to…reject someone because I'm afraid of being rejected."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Keep trying."

Karen gave her a strong hug. "I'm going to be thinking about you."

Daria had a slight smile. "I'll be doing the same about you. Don't forget to be nice to Derek."

Karen grinned. "Oh, I'll be nice to him."

"Karen, you still have a long ride ahead of you, and I want to try calling Michael. I haven't had a chance today."

Karen released Daria. "I understand. Keep me posted?"

"I have your email, and phone number."

"Good. See you later."

"Good bye."

The both waved and Karen climbed back to Terry's truck. Daria grabbed her bag and headed toward the house. Karen watched Daria with concern as they drove away.

Daria looked at her watch. "Almost four." She unlocked the door and entered, walking directly to the kitchen and grabbing the cordless phone. She looked at the wall calendar that still said May 12 and rubbed her forehead before speaking to it, "You'll be right again this Friday." Daria went to the table and took a seat. After a moment, she placed the phone down and went to the refrigerator, returning with a glass of cold water. She sipped it a few times and dialed. Once again, she counted the rings.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

Fifteen year-old Gina Fulton looked at the strange phone number on the ID screen. "What the?"

_Four…_

She picked up the phone book and checked the area code.

_Five…_

_Six…_

_Seven..._

"We don't know anybody in Maryland."

_Eight…_

She shrugged and walked away. "Stupid telemarketers. I've got homework to do."

_Nine…_

Again saddened, Daria turned off the phone and looked out the sliding glass doors at the back yard.

Only a few minutes later, voices from the front of the house broke Daria's reverie. Quinn was telling her mother, "I found the perfect car. It's a red Vexer, low mileage, the price is good."

Helen's voice came back. "That's wonderful Quinn."

Daria walked around the corner. "Hi Mom, Quinn. I'm home."

Helen rushed to Daria. "Sweetie!" She pulled Daria into a tight embrace. "How are you holding up?"

"I'll live. Providing, you don't crush my lungs."

Helen released her grip. Quinn approached and more carefully hugged her sister. "I'm so sorry."

Daria returned the hug. "Thanks, Quinn. I heard about who your prom date was. Did he survive?"

"I managed to get him trained to an acceptable level."

"I'm impressed."

"He's not a bad guy, when you get him away from his old influences."

"Don't tell me…"

"Get real. But, he can be nice. I hope he finds a good girl someday."

"You're getting soft."

"And the sooner, the better."

Helen said, "Daria, how would you like to get started on some car shopping? Quinn has a good place to start. I've got pre-approved loans from our bank for each of you, and I've made provisions on our insurance policy."

Daria shrugged. "Sure, I'm not doing much of anything else."

* * *

It was rapidly clear that Happy Herb's Used Cars held nothing of interest for Daria. She leaned against a white Camaro as Quinn negotiated with the salesman. Helen stood nearby with a mixture of concern and admiration. Daria allowed herself a small smile. _Quinn certainly can be charming. He doesn't stand a chance._ A few minutes later, Quinn motioned Helen over, and after a few more minutes, all three headed inside to sign papers.

Not long after, a smiling Quinn came out with a set of keys, while the salesman attached a temporary tag to the red Vexer. Helen spoke to Quinn. "Remember, you'll have to go by the insurance agent tomorrow to get the final details added to the policy. Drive safe now, dear."

Quinn waved. "I will Mom. See you at home!" Quinn was in the car and heading out of the lot in seconds. Daria went over to her mother. "How badly did she manipulate that poor guy?"

Helen rolled her eyes. "That price was almost embarrassing."

Daria nodded. "Now that we've convinced her it's okay to think, we may have made her even more dangerous."

"True, but she'll be able to take care of herself. That was something I was concerned about two years ago."

"You have a point."

"Sweetie, where do you want to look next?"

"I'm kind of beat, why don't we pack it in and try tomorrow?"

Helen looked at Daria's tired eyes. "Oh, of course we can. I'm so sorry; you've had a busy weekend and a long drive. We'll pick up some takeout on the way home."

"Thanks."

* * *

Jake looked up from his paper and beamed. "Hey, Daria. Welcome home." He put his paper aside and walked over. "Hmm. Cluster Burger. That could really hit the spot right now."

Helen frowned. "Jake, we got you a grilled chicken sandwich."

Jake muttered a dejected, "Helen…"

Daria gave him a small smile. "The chicken's better for you, and for some reason, we want to keep you around, Dad."

Jake smiled again. "You're right Daria. How can I enjoy my darling daughter if I'm not here? How was your trip?"

Daria began to get plates and glasses out for dinner. "No problems."

Jake took the bags from Helen and started to unpack them on the table. "Did you find an apartment?"

"We found a place in south Boston. The second floor of a pre-Civil War house."

Helen said, "That's fascinating."

"It's been in the owner's family since it was built. The rent's at our budget limit, but it was the best option we could find."

Quinn made her appearance, and after Jake had a chance to thoroughly inspect the new car, everyone returned to the kitchen. Soon, each Morgendorffer had fallen back to old dinner habits. Jake read the business section of the paper, Daria the arts section, and Quinn a magazine. Helen started to say something, developed a wry smile, and watched as they ate.

* * *

Daria sat on the bed in her old room, dressed in a long nightshirt. She was getting used to the carefully selected greens and wood tones her mother had chosen for the redecoration. She put a hand against the wall. "It would have helped if the old padding were still here."

Helen knocked and cracked the door open. "May I come in?"

Daria shrugged, "Why not?"

Helen entered, sat down close by Daria and placed a hand on her knee. "Going to bed early?"

"I'm tired."

"You've been putting on a brave face all evening. Care to talk?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not really, but a mother can tell."

"We really messed up."

"Honey…that happens sometimes. What you two do now…will say volumes about your feelings for each other."

Daria looked to her mother to continue.

"It is very easy to make mistakes and get mad in a close relationship. Anyone who tells you that they haven't either has just started, is lying, or is one of the luckiest people on Earth. The hard part is picking up afterwards and saying you're sorry. By the time a problem gets serious; both parties are usually to blame. When they both make the effort to set things right, the relationship is solid. When both don't, it will eventually fail."

"I want to make things right. But, I don't know if Michael does."

"Don't make assumptions. Trust me."

"Mom?"

"Do you remember when the Yeager's visited us?"

Daria looked confused. "Yes."

"You asked me about being arrested in Boulder, Colorado in August 1969?"

Still confused, Daria nodded.

"Your father and I had a terrible fight during our first summer together in the group house. He left for California after I told him to go away."

Daria was surprised at the sadness in Helen's eyes.

"I've never felt so sick in my life. I knew as soon as he was gone that I had made a horrible mistake. Coyote, Willow and I piled into my Dart and we headed off after him."

Daria listened in fascination.

"What I didn't know was that he also felt terrible. He kept calling the group house and was told, 'She's not here,' with no more explanation. He thought I was avoiding his calls."

"Hmm."

"They also forgot to tell me when I called there. Finally, I called his parents. Thank God I talked to Ruth and not Nathan. I found out Jake had been picked up for vagrancy in Boulder. Nathan refused to pay the fine, but Ruth wired me the money. We took shifts driving 'round the clock to get there. I was tired and didn't notice I'd run a red light. The cop saw the envelope of cash on the seat and thought we'd stolen it. When he tried to arrest us, I…punched him in the face. I wasn't thinking clearly, I just wanted Jakey out of jail. The officer fell right over, but his partner pulled his gun and finished the arrest."

Daria was wide-eyed at the story.

"We were held overnight for a Monday morning arraignment."

"How did you get out of it?"

"I bawled my eyes out in front of the judge explaining to him the money was for Jake's fine, and I was afraid that getting arrested and losing it would cause me to lose him."

"And…"

"I guess the judge was an old softie, or feeling generous. He asked me if I would take responsibility for Jake, to make sure he didn't sleep in the park again. I said yes, and he told the bailiff to accept the money as Jake's fine, and release all of us. With the specification that he wanted us out of Boulder in an hour."

"Wow."

"We both apologized, and learned to make the effort after that. We still fight, and still are trying to find ways to avoid that. But, we also remember to say, 'I'm sorry.' to each other, even if it takes overnight, like that time when you were in first grade."

"Mom…you've given me a lot to think about."

"That was the idea, Sweetie. Good night." Helen exited the room while Daria watched.

After a few minutes, Daria pulled her laptop from her bag, connected the phone line and booted it up. She opened the browser and worked quickly. Without a printer, she took notes of the results and closed the browser. "Oops…oh, forget it. I can check my Raft email later." She turned off the computer and crawled into bed, feeling a little better about herself than she had in a week. "Now, I only need a car."

* * *

Later that evening, Helen answered the telephone, "Hello…That's me; may I inquire to whom I am speaking?...Oh?...The same here…" As Helen spoke, a conspiratorial smile spread across her face. "I think that can be arranged…Very well, thank you…Goodbye."

* * *

Helen came down the stairs in her business suit and went straight to the kitchen. Daria was sitting at the counter, dressed in a green t-shirt and grey slacks, idly turning over a sugar-tart wrapper. Helen said, "Honey, I'm sorry. I can't car shop with you today, but I can reschedule for tomorrow."

Daria was not pleased. "What?"

Helen placed her hand on Daria's. "Something last minute, that can't be avoided."

"Great."

"I'm sorry. Oh…if you go out, could you please get home by about three? I'm expecting a delivery and need you here for it. Quinn has to go straight to work from school."

Daria glared at her mother. "I think I can handle that."

Helen gave Daria s warm smile. "Goodbye, Sweetie. Maybe…something interesting will turn up. I'll see you tonight."

* * *

Almost like a scene from their high school days, except the difference in clothes, Daria and Jane talked in Jane's room. Jane was gathering up odds and ends into boxes, Daria lay on the bed, head hung off the foot, and arms outstretched. "That was a wasted effort. Ten of ten cars that we looked at today that 'need a little work' don't run at all."

Jane said, "Hey, maybe the great Helen is sneaking off today to surprise you with a car."

"I wouldn't bet on it, though that would be her way to try to cheer me up."

If not, hopefully we'll have better luck finding you a car tomorrow. Trent and Lindy were talking about going to some government auction in Beltsville, we could tag along."

Daria's face was determined. "I will get a car by tomorrow, one way or the other."

"Why so certain?"

Daria turned her head to face Jane. "I'm going to drive to Michael's. According to MapsOnline, it looks like it will take about nine hours…if I don't make unnecessary stops."

Jane stopped her packing in surprise. "Have you gone mad?"

Daria sat up on the edge of the bed. "I can't leave things like this. I shouldn't have broken up with him so fast."

"Then why not call him? That is the reason they made telephones."

"I've been trying since Friday and haven't been able to get an answer. As close as I can tell, the Fulton's are rarely home and are the only family left in America without an answering machine. I don't have a good email for him, and he hasn't emailed me."

"So you're going to drive halfway across the country instead?"

"You can blame my mother."

* * *

Daria enjoyed the walk from the Lane residence back to her parent's house. She found herself thinking of the many times she'd walked these sidewalks, and fond memories of escapades with Jane. Approaching the house, she noticed a figure was hunched with arms wrapped around knees, on the back of an unfamiliar silver-grey car parked in the driveway. The figure was dressed in a brown shirt and blue jeans, and a red-haired head hung down between knees.

Michael looked up upon hearing a quiet gasp. Hesitantly, he quietly said, "Hi."

He rose as Daria cautiously approached. With a combination of wariness and hope, she said, "Michael? What are you doing? How did you get here?"

"My folks let me borrow a car. If you only stop for gas, you can make the trip in about…"

"Nine hours."

"Uh…yeah. I left about five this morning. Been waiting out here for about an hour."

"You made that drive to talk to me?"

"Y...yes." Michael struggled to maintain an even voice. "Daria…please allow me a couple minutes. I…"

"Only…if you do the same for me."

"I'm not going to Rome. I'm staying at Raft."

"Why? What about your dream to study there?"

"I…had a long, complex speech ready to explain. But…"

"But?"

"But, it boiled down to simply comparing two dreams." He held his hands like a balance, nodding to each in turn. "Going to Rome to study, or being with you. I can't have both, so which is more important?" He lowered one hand and whispered, "You."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes. "I love you. If I had any doubts before, this last week has eliminated them. I have missed you more than I thought possible."

"I…I told you, I can't bear you giving up on your dream for me."

"Daria…for the last week, I haven't been thinking about that school, I've been thinking about you. Going there is not worth losing you. Yes, I'm giving up that dream, but I'm trying to save the more important one."

"Oh. But, you don't have to...I was considering how to fly…"

"I understand what you're saying. It means a lot. But, this is my choice. Being with you is more important. Not once every few months, but…like we were. I can still go on with my original plan. Degree from Raft, go on to grad school. I'm not losing the core dream, just…a little frosting."

He reached for her hand and lightly held it, remembering the first time he did, at the Raft art gallery. Daria looked down and made no attempt to move. Michael spoke carefully and slowly, while watching Daria's reactions. "I'm still new at this whole relationship thing." He swallowed. "I made a bunch of damnably huge mistakes and did the thing I most feared doing, I hurt you. By not thinking about you or what you thought, only what I wanted." He raggedly inhaled and closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking into Daria's. "I stupidly asked you to marry me so I could have both the things I wanted. I didn't honestly think about what you wanted. I'm sorry I did that. You…were right. I asked for the wrong reason." He shook his head. "I…don't want you to consider that question to be hanging over you. You answered, and did so truthfully."

Daria could see deep regret in his eyes.

With hands beginning to tremble, he forced himself to continue. "Finally, I fled Boston without…even trying to talk to you again, like a coward. I'm here…to apologize. My hope is you…can…somehow forgive me."

Daria gently squeezed his hand. "Forgiven."

A wave of relief passed over his face.

Daria spoke, also slowly. "And, a certain question will be…not under consideration…at this time." Daria weakly smiled at him. "I overreacted, also. I should have tried to talk things over with you instead of breaking up." Her shoulders fell as a sad look descended on her face. "That must have hurt you terribly."

Michael's expression told her it was true.

She went on, "I lost track of how many times I broke up with Tom, because I wouldn't talk, because I didn't want him to reject me. I…damn…I promised myself I wouldn't do that to you…and I still did it. So much for keeping my word. I…went to your dorm last Thursday and ran into your roommate, Ken. He really chewed me out."

"You tried to see me?"

"Yes, after much browbeating from my friends. I missed you by a couple hours."

He slumped back against the car. "Damn. If I had only waited…" After a pause, "Ken was probably just acting from guesswork, I didn't tell him much, except that we had broken up."

"Well, it was still a shock, which I think I deserved."

"Sorry. I know he can be rather crude."

"He was. Um…did you really…get physically sick?"

Embarrassed, he gave a nod.

"I'm so sorry, Michael. I apologize for letting my stubbornness and fear of rejection get the better of me. I thought you wouldn't want me for saying no to your proposal. I shouldn't have run away when you asked. And I certainly should have tried to talk to you sooner."

"I…hell…" He wiped a distracting wet streak off of his cheek. "I accept. Um…what do we do now?"

She placed her free hand around his neck and pulled his head down. "This, I think," and she kissed him.

He used his free hand to pull her close. "Does this mean we've made up?"

"It looks like it."

"Thank you." He noticed something when he slightly pulled away to look at her face. Daria was surprised when he gently lifted her glasses and wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a warm smile and leaned the side of her face against his chest. "Yes." After a couple seconds, she raised her head to look at him, continuing the smile. "That…is the first time I've had a tear of joy."

He wrapped his arms softly around her. "I hope it's not the last."

Daria felt her muscles relax as he held her. "I missed your embrace."

Michael kissed the top of her head. "I've missed holding you. I'm glad I made the drive to finally talk to you."

Daria gave him a small smile. "I am, too." She raised an eyebrow. "How did you know I was here?"

Michael produced a sheepish, crooked smile. "My Mom…got tired of me moping around. She…talked to yours on the phone last night."

Daria raised the second eyebrow. "My Mom?"

"Right after, mine gave me this address and said, 'If you think you made such a mistake, here is your chance to fix it,' I took it and set my alarm for this morning. Here I am."

"My Mom?" Daria closed her eyes and murmured. "She was remembering her past."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. But, that would explain why Mom suddenly had to go into work this morning instead of taking me out looking for a car. And made sure I was here by three."

"Clearly a plot. I think we should be worried, they like each other."

"My mother is a professional plotter. How bad is yours?"

"Daria, she set this up."

"This could be bad." Daria briefly kissed him again. "I'm glad they did."

"Daria, how did you know how long the drive would be?"

"I…was planning on making the trip after I got a car. I could never get an answer at your house. Don't you people believe in answering machines?"

He released her. "Yes, but you kept hanging up before I could answer."

Daria looked down. "Sorry. I held on as long as I could. I almost got sick each time I called." She looked up and asked, "Do you have the phone in the basement? I'd called every day since Friday, mornings all but yesterday and let the phone ring eight or nine times."

"I know about Friday and Saturday. I called back Saturday, what did you do, call and run?"

Daria looked at him in disbelief. "I called…while everyone was waiting on me to go apartment hunting. After I didn't get an answer…crap…I left right after to catch up with Jane and Karen. I called Sunday before we moved everything to the new apartment. The super disconnected the phones that morning."

Michael slapped his hand. "Dammit. We forgot to put the machine on when we went to church, Sunday. When we got back, I called, and your phone was disconnected." He furrowed his brow in frustration as he recalled, "Oh, shoot. My sister saw a Maryland number on the caller ID yesterday and thought it was a telemarketer, so ignored it."

"Caller ID, so you really did know it was me?"

"Yes, and don't you check your email? I sent one Sunday."

"We won't have an internet connection in the apartment until next week." Daria shook her head. "And I blew off checking last night because I was tired."

Michael giggled.

Daria stared at him in annoyance, softened, and started to join in.

Michael shook his head. "This has been one fine comedy of errors."

Daria laughed a little more. "This could only happen in life, nobody would write this kind of crap."

Michael wrapped his arms around her and began to laugh much harder. "We've spent five days…going nuts…all because…of bad timing?"

Daria laughed again. "Fate hates us."

"O Fortune. Dost thou wax and wane. And you waxed us good."

Daria smiled. "Only you...why don't we go inside instead of making a spectacle for the neighbors?"

Michael blushed slightly. "Ooh. Right."

They walked to the door holding hands. Daria looked at Michael as she opened the door. "Um…don't get any ideas, but, that ring…if I had said yes…would have been perfect."

Michael weakly smiled. "I'm glad you liked it."

She gave him a questioning look. "So, what did you do with it?"

"I got a refund…well, more like my plastic credited." He thought of the ring nestled in its box, inside the glove compartment of the car. Michael had no idea of why he still had it, or why he had carried it with. _Perfect? Maybe…I can use you in a couple years_.

* * *

Helen held the cell phone against her ear with a shoulder and tuned the radio in the red SUV to static. She moved the phone next to the crackling speaker and spoke loudly. "Eric, I'm loosing the signal. I can't hear a word that you're saying. I'll have to try calling you back later." She shut off the phone and smiled at herself as she reset the radio. Her smile broadened as she saw the silver-grey car in the driveway with Michigan tags. _Samantha, I see your son is here. I think we're going to get along just fine._

She quietly let herself in the house and noticed two people close together on one of the sofa sections, and facing away from the door. Her oldest daughter's familiar auburn hair rested on the shoulder of a young man with bright red hair. She cleared her throat and said. "I thought something interesting might turn up."

* * *

Thanks to: Ranchoth, Kristen Bealer, Mike Nassour, Mahna Mahna, Isa Yo-Jo, Steven Galloway, The Angst Guy, ipswichfan, Lawndale Stalker, and Hiergargo at PPMB for comments and commentary.

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mike Nassour, Mr. Orange, Cheshire Cat, and Deref for beta reading and other commentary.

October 2004  
Revised February 2005


	20. Shopping For Cars With Boys

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. iginal characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the twentieth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Shopping For Cars With Boys**

"Oh crap!" Michael Fulton exclaimed in the middle of a conversation, startling both his girlfriend sitting next to him, Daria Morgendorffer, and her mother, Helen, seated on one of the other sofas in the Morgendorffer residence.

Daria gave him an odd look. "Is something the matter?"

His eyes were wide. "Can I use a phone for a long distance call?"

Helen pulled out her cell phone. "If it's important."

"I've got to cancel my withdrawal from Raft!" He hastily ran out to his car, locating a form on the seat. He ran back into the house as he unfolded the paper and found a number. Taking the cell phone from Helen's hand, he entered the number and waited impatiently, and then punched in more digits at the phone prompts. Finally, he said, "Yes Ma'am. Please cancel my withdrawal letter…I've had a change of plans…Completely unavoidable, yes…completely. Fulton…Michael…Steven…RaftID eight, one, zero, eight, one, one, dash, three, five, nine, one…Filed last Thursday, May four…Resume classes in the fall…Great, thank you very much…bye." Michael sunk back against the sofa and looked at his watch. "Four-fifty. Another ten minutes…"

Daria stared at him. "You…"

He looked at her. "If you had told me to go away…"

Daria softly sighed. "I don't blame you. Just, glad you didn't remember ten minutes late."

Helen said, "Michael, you must be tired, I hope you're not planning on driving back to Detroit tonight."

He turned toward her. "Um…I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was…"

"Did you even call your mother to let her know you got here?"

"Uh…"

Helen shook her head and inwardly smiled. _I haven't seen somebody this head-over-heels since I first started seeing Jake. The boy drives nine hours from Detroit to make up with Daria, and can't think of anything else._ She grabbed her phone back from Michael and retrieved a planner from her briefcase. She found a number and dialed.

A woman with bright red hair pulled into a bun answered the phone at her office desk. "Factory Health and Safety Office. Samantha Fulton speaking."

"Samantha, Helen Morgendorffer. I hope you don't mind..."

"No, Helen. Let me guess, my wandering son forgot to call?"

"Yes, I was…"

"And our children are back together?"

"Yes. I…"

"Excellent. It's almost five; would it be too much for him to stay at your place tonight?"

"No, Samantha. Not at…"

"Great. Thank you so much, Helen. If he wants to stay extra, I don't have a problem if it's not an inconvenience for you."

"Oh, no. He can use the guest..."

"Please remind him he does have to be back to work on Monday."

"I will; anything…"

"It's been nice talking to you, and thanks for calling. My four-thirty is finally here and I must go. Bye."

"Bye." Helen looked at the phone in shock.

Daria stared at Helen and slowly said, "I have never seen my mother go through an entire conversation and not complete a sentence."

Michael smirked and leaned against Daria, "If she's at work, my mother can outtalk a hurricane."

Daria turned back toward Michael. "That's normal?"

He bobbed his head. "Pretty much, that's why I don't like to call her at work. She calms down a lot when she gets home."

"Do you think you could have warned my Mom?"

"Would it have worked?"

"Um…no."

"Why bother?"

"Point taken."

Helen recovered and faced Michael. "Your mother's happy that you got here safely, and that the two of you are back together. You can stay as long as you want, just make sure you get back for work on Monday."

"Thanks Mrs. Morgendorffer. After our…problematic exit at Raft, I think a day or two would be nice."

Daria added, "I also need to get back to Boston, classes and my new job start Monday."

Michael's curiosity was piqued. "New job?"

"I didn't get a chance to tell you, I'll be editing at the University Press part-time."

"Sounds good."

"And…I get staff parking."

"No."

Daria nodded. "Yep."

Helen remembered an incident a couple months earlier, when Michael had used her assumptions…and the omission of a few details…to scare her into believing the two were having sex. In reality, it was only Michael tending to Daria while she was bedridden with a cold. Quinn had used a similar tactic a couple weeks earlier to distract Jake from the cost of her prom dress.

Helen looked at the door with mild concern. "Michael, my husband, Jake, will be home soon. That…sense of humor of yours…may not be the best idea. When I called Daria's room that one time…"

Michael smirked. "My basic sense of self-preservation tells me it is not a good idea to tell a man I just met…that his daughter was next to me in bed."

Helen mildly shook her head. "I'm more concerned about Jake. He is…excitable. Particularly after Daria's sister pulled a similar stunt last Sunday."

"I understand."

Daria raised one eyebrow at her mother. "Mom…what did Quinn do?"

Helen raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my. Now Daria, she did come clean completely on her own accord, so don't get too mad at her."

"I'm not going to get mad…"

"Quinn heard that you two went to Jane's birthday party and had to stay overnight because of an ice storm."

Daria softly squeezed Michael's hand at the memory. "We slept on lounge chairs in Jane's room." Daria's eyes narrowed. "And my dear sister also left out a few important details…"

"Well…yes."

Rubbing her temples as she thought, Daria let out a sigh. _Jane talks to Trent, who talks to Lindy, who talks to Quinn. I'm going to be so glad when Quinn goes to Pepperhill next year._

"Daria, don't do anything too rash, she did tell us…after she learned about you two breaking up. She was worried about you, and didn't want your father going off."

"What did she use it as a distraction for?"

"Her prom gown."

"Was it over budget that badly?"

* * *

Jake looked up from setting the table and said in a low voice, "Are you sure leaving them alone is a good idea?"

Helen's voice was low, but firm. "Jake, they're right in the living room."

"But, two college students…"

Helen set a pan of heated lasagna down. "Even we weren't that tactless."

"Oh, all right."

"I'll go get them." Helen went to the living room, stopping for a moment to smile. Michael had fallen asleep and slumped over to the right into Daria's lap, with his head cradled in her arms like a pieta. Daria had a soft smile as she watched his face. Helen quietly moved over and whispered, "They are cute when they do that."

Daria looked up.

Helen smiled, "Dinner's ready." She turned back toward the kitchen and said with a wink, "I'll let you wake him."

* * *

After dinner, Daria took Michael upstairs to the guest bedroom. "The bathroom is next door, I'm down the hall to the left, Quinn to the right. Mom and Dad are down that way. Why don't you get your stuff while I make sure everything is set up in there?"

Michael grimaced in embarrassment and coughed. "Uh…Is there something like an S-Mart around here?"

"The mall's only about five minutes away. Forget something?"

He shuffled his feet. "Uh…everything."

Daria raised an eyebrow. "You didn't pack anything before leaving?"

He slowly nodded. "I did…but forgot to bring the suitcase with me."

"You've got a car; we'll go get you set up."

* * *

Quinn Morgendorffer was making a quick stop in the mall's drug store before heading home from her job at Cashman's. While going down an aisle, she unmistakably saw her sister and a young, red-headed man holding hands. She smiled, thinking: _So that's why Mom asked me to go straight to work from school today, _and moved closer to eavesdrop.

Daria sternly said, "Michael, you drove nine hours to see me and you forgot?"

Michael was slightly chastised, "I was a little preoccupied. I'm taking care of it now, no big deal."

Quinn curiously worked toward the end of the aisle.

Daria's voice was still concerned, "No big deal? What if…?"

Quinn looked around the corner and gasped to see Daria and Michael talking in front of a merchandise rack of birth control products.

Daria turned. "Quinn?"

Quinn used her innocent voice to say, "D…aria! Hi…how are you?"

"I'm actually doing quite well. Quinn, please meet Michael. Yes, he drove here from home, and yes, we made up."

"Um." Quinn extended her hand. "Hi, I've heard a lot about you."

Daria continued. "Michael, this is my sister, Quinn."

Michael shook her hand. "Hi, I've heard quite a bit about you."

Quinn drew circles on the floor with her toe. "So…what are you two doing here?"

Michael sheepishly said, "I…didn't plan my…supplies well for the trip here. We're picking up a few things."

Daria smirked. "A few? You forgot everything. Including…"

Quinn covered her ears. "I don't want details."

The pharmacist looked over the counter and held a small bag. "Mr. Fulton? It's a good thing your prescription was in the computer."

Michael stepped over, pulling out his wallet. "One of the reasons I use this chain of pharmacies, you have all the customer prescriptions linked in a central database."

Daria gave Quinn a confused look. "…His epinephrine injector."

Quinn looked at Daria. "His what?"

"He's severely allergic to wasp stings. He normally carries one to prevent anaphylactic shock if he is stung." Daria looked at Michael. "Which, he forgot."

Quinn looked relieved. "Oh…"

Daria stared at her sister. "Quinn…what did you think we were talking about?"

Michael turned back from paying the pharmacist in time to catch the end of the conversation. He noticed the rack behind Daria and chuckled.

Daria looked at him. "What?"

He pointed and she turned to follow, resulting in a soft groan and resting her head on her hand. "Quinn, quit jumping to conclusions."

Quinn giggled. "I guess I should. But, with what you said, and where you two were standing…"

Michael put an arm around Daria. "It would appear…"

Daria gave him a tired look.

He gave her a slight smile. "We're a couple and people are going to assume we do. It's a reality of life. We can't get upset every time someone does."

Daria sighed. "I suppose you're right. I just don't like it."

Michael pulled Daria a little closer and looked at Quinn. "Trust me, please. I care for your sister. If we ever do anything, I want it to be special for her. Not something that requires a last-minute run to the drug store."

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the two of them, noting their body language. With a relieved smile, she said, "I do trust you. But, if you two ever disappear to some romantic destination for the weekend…"

Michael half-grinned at Quinn and said, "Deal. Oh, we heard about your little distraction for the prom dress."

Quinn looked worried.

"And we know what you did to protect your sister. So, you're safe this time. But, any more comments to her parents, or anyone else, on this subject, and we will…," his grin broadened, "…collaborate on getting even."

"Eap!"

* * *

The next morning, Daria and Jake sat at the kitchen table, reading their respective sections of the paper. Helen rushed in and paused as she headed for the door. "You and Michael have a nice day. If you want to look for cars, go ahead. I left all the loan and insurance information on the coffee table."

Daria looked over the edge of the paper. "Okay, Mom."

Quinn blew by like a zephyr, saying, "Gotta go. See everyone tonight when I'm done tutoring Kevin," and disappearing out the door.

Daria leaned over toward her father. "That was Quinn, right?"

Jake said, "Hmm," without lowering his paper. Daria had just started to raise her paper again when he said, "But, who was our first mystery guest?"

Daria gave him a smile. "Good one."

He folded the paper and set it down. "Old Jakey still has a little humor left in him." He picked up his breakfast plate and deposited it in the washer. "It's also time for me to head off to work. I was hoping to talk to your young fellow before I left."

"He's still asleep, Dad."

"He must be tired after that long drive. See you tonight." Jake picked up his briefcase and left.

Daria watched the door for a couple minutes. "Wow. That went surprisingly well. Maybe Dad is starting to relax a bit about Michael."

Daria picked up the phone and dialed, patiently waiting for an answer.

Eventually, Jane mumbled, "Ullo?" as she crawled from her bed, clutching the cordless phone to her ear.

"Hey, it's Daria."

Jane took a couple seconds to focus on the clock. "Do you have any idea of what time it is?"

"Yeah, I know. And normally, a little righteous indignation would be appropriate on your part."

"Later…when I have the energy. Are we still going with Trent to that auction?"

"Uh, no. Jane, that's why I'm calling, I've had a change of plans."

"Oh? What happened to 'I'm getting a car one way or the other'?"

"Um…Michael made it a moot point. He was waiting at my house when I got home yesterday."

Jane's face brightened. "You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not."

"He pulled the same crazy stunt you were planning?"

"Yeah."

"You two deserve each other. You did make up…right?"

"Yes, we did."

"Great. Dr. Jane is prescribing a day of rest and relaxation for you."

"Why, thank you doctor."

"Seriously, I'm very happy for you."

Daria smiled. "Thanks."

Jane grinned widely. "That woke my butt up. Think I'll go share the experience with Trent. You two kids have fun."

"Just make sure Trent doesn't get all disoriented when you wake him." Daria continued to smile.

"He's not Jesse. Later."

"Later."

Daria went upstairs and quietly opened the door to the guest room. Michael was asleep on his stomach, one arm folded under his pillow and head, the other stretched to the side. She carefully moved next to the bed and knelt down. For a few minutes, she watched before leaning over to give him a long, soft kiss. When his eyes opened, she smiled and said, "Good morning."

He blinked several times and gently touched her cheek with his fingers. "You…are the most beautiful sight I have even woken up to."

Daria gave him a second kiss. "I can scare up a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee while you get dressed, how does that sound?"

Michael returned the kiss. "Wonderful. I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes."

* * *

Jake was halfway to work when every muscle in his body stiffened and he careened across two lanes of traffic. "Gaaaahhhhhhh!" He regained control of the Lexus after a second. "Daria and that college boy are going to be home alone all day…Gaaahhhhhh!" He swerved back across the same two lanes of traffic.

* * *

Several hours later, Jane spoke on the phone. "Daria, can you drag your penitent male out to drive us to Beltsville?"

"Unless you have a particularly good reason, I'm not that inclined to ask."

"Trent's at that government auction to replace the blue bomb. He ended up with two extra cars."

Daria rolled her eyes. "Only Trent would go looking for a car and end up with three."

"He needs drivers, and somebody to take the extras off his hands."

"He what?"

"You…me…cars."

"They better not be junk. We'll be at your house in ten minutes."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

Trent and Lindy waved to catch the three's attention. He quickly hugged Jane, and followed to Daria, to whom he whispered, "I'm glad to see you two are back together."

Daria smiled at him. Trent went to Michael and offered his hand. "Thanks for giving them a ride."

Michael shook Trent's hand. "No problem."

Trent nodded toward Lindy. "Michael, that's Lindy. Lindy, this is that Michael guy you've been hearing about."

Both gave friendly nods.

Trent waved at a five year-old, glossy black, four-door SUV with dark tinted windows, "My new wheels."

Amid murmurs of approval, Jane, Daria and Michael approached and looked closer. Michael stopped and looked at the wheels, while Daria looked a little oddly at the heavy-feeling door she had opened.

Trent went up next to Michael and pointed to a braided steel hose leading from the wheel hub to the tire valve stem. Scratching the back of his head, he said, "Can't figure those things out."

Michael looked at him oddly. "Those are air lines to keep the tire pressure up."

"Cool, I don't have to check the tires as much."

"Trent, those are for keeping the tires inflated when there's a hole in them."

Daria rolled down the window on the door she had opened, and looked in surprise at the particularly thick glass. "Trent, what kind of auction was this?"

"Well…um. I thought it was one of those DEA things. You know; confiscated cars and stuff."

Daria looked at him quizzically. "And…"

"It was some agency auction…Treasury Department, that's it."

Daria shook her head. "These are bullet-proof glass windows. From how heavy the door is, I bet it is armor plated. Self-inflating tires." Daria looked behind the back seat. "Gun racks against each of the side-back windows," She smirked, "You got an old Secret Service vehicle."

"Whoa."

Michael stood up. "I wouldn't have thought that something like this would go out."

Daria shrugged. "Bureaucracy at work? Don't knock it."

Jane grinned widely. "Bullet-proof?" She began to laugh. "This time, you really did get a tank."

Michael placed a hand on the fender and said in a Mel Blanc imitation, "And we will call him 'George'."

Jane gave him a 'what-are-you-talking-about' look.

"George…Patton…tank?"

Trent laughed and coughed. "Good one. Not bad for fifteen hundred. I was the only bidder"

Jane's eyes lit up. "Fifteen? What a deal."

Daria moved next to Lindy. "I think that will be a bit safer than the Tank."

She smiled back. "I'm really feeling a lot better about this. Thanks for coming out."

Trent got a mischievous look. "Follow me." He led the rest around to the other side, where two black mid-size sedans were parked, each also about five years old and well maintained. Faint discoloration was visible on each door where the government property decals had been removed. "I didn't realize the auction was a package deal, these are the extras. Tell you what, five hundred each, and they're yours."

Jane's draw dropped. "What!"

"Hey, three-way split."

Jane turned to Daria. "The partners in crime with matching cars?"

Daria turned to Lindy. "I want to make sure, did you want one?"

Lindy shook her head. "I'm happy with my car. You and Jane are the ones in need."

Daria turned back to Trent. "You have a deal."

Trent and Daria symbolically shook hands. Daria cocked an eyebrow. "So…what happened to the old unreliable?"

Trent smiled. "Oh, Max bought it."

Daria and Jane began to inspect their new cars, and to discuss ways to choose who gets which one. Lindy joined them.

Trent opened the back of the SUV, motioned Michael to have a seat, and followed suit. "I heard about what happened."

"You want to chew me out?"

"Nah, I bet you've done enough of that to yourself."

"At least I discovered my foot tastes best with mesquite barbeque sauce."

Trent smiled at the comment. "I understand what you did, but I hope you realize that asking her to give up so much…"

Michael twisted his hands together. "…Was one of the worst things I could do."

"I also understand why you drove back."

"Thanks."

"You couldn't bear to lose her."

Michael nodded.

Trent put his hand on Michael's shoulder. "You've got a good heart."

"I thought so, I'm not so sure now."

"You do, that's why you came back. Your head might have gone stupid, but your heart didn't."

"I…sometimes…I feel so strongly, I don't know what I'm doing."

"I understand falling for her, I did, too."

"I knew she had a crush on you…but…"

"I kept it quiet." He looked directly at Michael. "I would have really hurt her. Not like you, but really messed her up."

Michael gave him a confused look. "With how much you look after her?"

"It's the way I am."

"What's that mean?"

"I'm a slacker musician, who won't be in anything bigger than a local band."

"I thought you had dreams to hit the big time."

"Like those will really happen? I know when to be real. That's why Lindy is good for me."

"How?"

"She understands exactly what I am, and is happy with me that way."

"Daria understands you."

"But, she would have believed in me; believed that I could do more. When I couldn't, it would have torn her apart."

"Oh."

Trent lightly tapped his finger on Michael's chest. "You, she can believe in and be worth her belief. That's why you're better for her."

Michael blushed. "Um…" He shrugged his shoulders when he couldn't find anything to say.

Trent levered off of the tailgate. "Better see if they've decided, so we can get the titles."

"You don't have them yet?"

"Didn't make any sense…until we knew who was getting which car."

"Hmm, okay. Daria is set up already on her parent's policy, but what about insurance for Jane?"

"They got a guy selling one-month deals."

"One month?"

"Just enough to get someone legally off the lot."

"Ah."

* * *

The caravan filled the parking spaces in front of Pizza Prince, Trent driving "George", followed by Jane, Daria, Michael, and Lindy tailing to make sure nobody straggled.

Grabbing one large pie, all five descended on a table. They quickly fell into relaxed conversation.

Jane shrugged one shoulder, "It came up heads, so I got the one with bullet hole in the floorboard."

Daria gave a small smile. "I would love to hear the story behind that little incident."

Jane shook here head. "Five hundred, I still can't believe our luck. Leave it to my big brother to once again pull my keester out of the fire."

Daria nodded. "The fun part of it is, Quinn is going to be making payments for three years on her wonderful deal, and I have cash left over from that thousand dollar CD my folks gave me for a down payment."

Lindy said, "But, she will get a nice credit history boost by keeping up with hers."

"True, I've been keeping a small balance on my credit card and paying scrupulously a little extra to build mine. Only I don't have to worry as much about coming up with my payments."

Jane tapped Daria on the shoulder. "Just to be annoying and change the subject, I talked to Claire on the phone last night."

Daria looked a little concerned. "How is Ms. Defoe holding up as acting principal at Lawndale?"

"She's managing to hang in there. It's sounding like Li was seriously loopy behind the throne."

"No kidding."

"I mean it. Claire got a look at the real books. Do you realize that Li wasn't joking about that satellite transmission jammer?"

Michael cocked his head almost ninety degrees. "What was that?"

"No kidding. A satellite transmission jammer."

Michael still looked baffled. "What in the hell would she want with that?"

Daria smirked. "The world wonders."

Jane chuckled. "The police are also investigating how Li was released from the hospital after the Ultra Cola incident."

Lindy joined in, "Oh, yeah, the paper said that none of the staff doctors okayed her release. It was an outside doctor that did."

Daria shook her head. "So, it looks like Li might actually be crazy?"

"Quite possibly."

Daria shook her head. "It always felt like that place was an asylum…run by the inmates."

* * *

Jake jumped up and rushed to the door when he heard it open. "Daria! There you are. Are you okay? I came home early to spend time with my daughter, and you weren't home."

Daria smiled. "Well, Dad. Mom did suggest we go out looking for a car." Daria opened the door wider. "What do you think?"

"Huh?"

Daria pointed. "My car?"

"Oh. Um…the black one?"

"Yes, Dad. Would you like to take a look?"

"Yeah…sure."

Michael stepped aside to let them pass. "Hi, Mr. Morgendorffer."

"Oh, hi son. There was something I was going to talk to you about."

"Um…."

"Now son, my daughter is…Hey, nice car, Daria."

Michael covered his mouth to stifle a laugh as Jake began to inspect Daria's car. Sliding next to her, he whispered, "He's distracted easily, isn't he?"

"There are times when it has its advantages," was her whispered reply.

* * *

…**In the end, you are the most important part of my life. Please write or call.**

**I love you,**

**Michael**

Daria read the email Michael had sent the previous Sunday, before they had made-up and were unsuccessfully trying to communicate with each other. She continued to look at the screen in mild surprise for many seconds after closing the email program on her laptop. "Wow."

Daria tugged the hem of her nightshirt down as she responded to a knock at the door. She briefly looked down to make sure she was fully covered before opening it. Michael waited outside in a t-shirt and shorts. The both reached out and held hands before moving together for a kiss. Michael gave her hands a squeeze. "Good night." Daria rose up on her feet to kiss him a second time. "Good night." They released each other with a smile, and Daria closed her door. She turned off her computer and crawled into bed. Just as she was drifting off, she unconsciously moved the pillow and hugged it.

Just as he turned to go to the guest room, Michael heard his name whispered from the other side of the corridor. Quinn gazed out from her door, motioning for him. He shrugged and walked over. "What's up?"

"Thanks for coming for her."

"Well, it did seem to be in my best interest."

"She really missed you."

"Trust me, the feeling was mutual."

"That's…what I have been hoping." Quinn gave him a grin and disappeared behind her door.

Michael raised an eyebrow and shook his head before heading toward the guest room.

As he crossed in front of the stairs, Jake's voice rose to greet him, "Hey, my man. Wait up." Michael looked down to see Jake quickly coming up the stairs. Once there, Jake put his hand on Michael's shoulder. "Now, young man. Daria is very special…"

Michael said, "Isn't she, though. Say, what's your take on the election this year? Think it will be a close one?"

Jake's shoulder's raised in frustration and he clenched his fists. "Stinking, rotten politicians! None of them are really pulling for us working stiffs. If I could just find one…"

Michael smiled inwardly as he carefully sidestepped to his room and slipped inside.

* * *

"Thursday, I never could get the hang of Thursdays." The next morning, Michael silently listened until he heard the front door closing a third time. Carefully, he went downstairs and to the kitchen.

Daria looked over from the table, where she was finishing a bowl of cereal. "Hiding from my family?"

Michael responded with, "Discretion is the better part of valor," as he made for the coffee.

Daria poured cereal into a bowl for Michael. "You can't hide tomorrow. Mom specifically asked for you to join us for breakfast before we leave. Though, we can probably convince Quinn to make a fast exit."

"I suppose that was inevitable."

"You got it."

"So…what's on the agenda for today?" Michael asked as he sat next to Daria and kissed her cheek.

"I had been hoping to wake you up again this morning."

He smiled, "Damn, I should have stayed in bed."

"Do you mind if we spend a quiet day together? Back at Raft, we always needed to end things for one or the other of us to study or something."

"Sounds good."

* * *

Daria and Michael sat with Jake and Helen for Friday breakfast. Daria spoke over her cereal, "I wish we could stretch things through the weekend, but I really need to get stuff unpacked and put away before classes start Monday."

Michael muttered, "I understand, but don't have to like it."

Daria gave him a weak smile. "I didn't say I liked it, either."

Helen said, "It has been a pleasure having both of you here. Michael, you will always be welcome to stay in the guest room when Daria's here."

He nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Taking both Daria and Michael's hands, Helen continued, "I've been very impressed by how mature you two have behaved these last few days." Helen released them and clasped her hands together. "We have been far too concerned about whether you have been…intimate." Daria started to speak, but Helen cut her off. "That really is a private matter between you. Your maturity has shown that it is none of our business. We won't inquire, or listen to stories, again."

Jake looked at his wife in surprise. "Helen, that's…" He abruptly stopped with his jaw clamped down in pain as Helen slightly shifted back to her normal seated position.

Daria smiled at her mother. "That…means a lot. Thanks."

Michael looked at Jake with concern.

* * *

Daria looked back through the front door. "Mom, Dad, thanks for everything. I'll see you in a couple of weeks for Quinn's graduation. Bye now."

Her parents chorused "Good bye" came through just before she closed the door and walked over to where Michael's car was parked next to hers. She tightly pulled him into an embrace. "We better get going, long distances to travel."

Michael looked down. "Yeah, and it will be way too long before we can see each other again."

"We'll stay in touch, and I've already bought my plane tickets for July."

"These last couple days spoiled me." He gently ran his finger tips down her spine.

Daria lightly gasped and arched her back in response. "Me, too."

"I can't stand to drag things out." Michael gave her a lingering kiss and backed away holding her hands. "I love you." He paused for several seconds in anticipation before leaning forward to kiss her again. He said, "Good bye," released her hands and climbed into his car. "Please drive carefully."

Daria nodded. "I will…and I expect the same from you. Good bye."

Michael started the car and backed down the driveway. He gave a last wave to Daria and drove off. She watched him until he was out of sight, feeling emptiness inside as she looked down at her hands.

"I…"

After a few moments of thought, she silently got into her car for the drive to Jane's.

* * *

Jane came out of the house wearing a set of large, dark sunglasses. When she was close enough, she tossed a set of clip-ons to Daria, who promptly dropped them. After picking them up and examining them, she looked at Jane. "Any particular reason?"

Jane took the shades from Daria, and clipped them over her glasses. "Not bad. The cars…just demand we wear dark shades. Think of the names we can use…"

Daria winced. "I'd rather not. Besides, why don't I just wear my prescription sunglasses?"

Jane shrugged one shoulder. "Oops."

"Do I get to say goodbye to Trent, or is he examining the inside of his eyelids."

"His eyelids appear to be extremely fascinating this morning. I couldn't wake him."

Daria shrugged. "Guess I'll call him later then."

Jane waved her hand toward the cars, "Shall we?"

"Lay on."

* * *

Daria and Jane traveled back to Boston and their new apartment, the second floor of an antebellum south Boston home.

After a pleasant greeting from the landlady, Mrs. Lyndon, they ascended the stairs to their home. Jane gave a rushed grin and said, "One thing I hate about long car trips," before she made directly for the bathroom.

Daria walked to her room and opened her top dresser drawer. She removed a narrow, gold gift box and placed it on top. She took the cover off and slowly removed a gold necklace with a pendant. The delicately streaked greens of the malachite cabochon set on the pendent gave an elegant contrast to the gold. Daria opened the clasp and pulled the necklace around her neck before closing it, allowing the pendent to rest just above her breasts. She looked in the mirror and smiled for a moment, before reaching into the drawer to remove a paper-wrapped object. She went to her computer desk and unwrapped a small blue, glass vase holding a dozen tiny silk roses. She placed the roses on the shelf over the monitor.

Jane stuck her head in the room. "Hey, there you are, ready to start unpacking?"

Daria turned and nodded.

Jane looked at her watch. "Less than five minutes, I knew you wouldn't take long to get that back on. I'll say it again, happiness looks good on you."

Daria gave her friend a smile. "I feel a lot better than I did when we left last weekend."

Jane produced a quirky grin. "So, what exactly are you feeling toward him?"

"That he is…a sweet, romantic man."

"And…"

"I'm very happy we are back together, even if we have to spend most of the summer apart."

"Is there anything in particular to describe how you feel?"

Daria sighed and looked down. "I know what you are trying to get me to say." Daria looked up with concern in her eyes. "I…I'm not sure. I don't know how to be sure."

Jane put an arm around Daria's shoulder. "From what I understand, you'll figure out eventually." _What the rest of us already can see._ "Don't worry about it."

* * *

In good spirits, they helped each other tote, unpack, sort, catalog and disperse their possessions.

In Daria's room, Jane pulled the small, hinged container from the shipping box and opened it.

"Oh…wow. You still have these lying around?"

"What?" Daria looked up from the box she was working on.

"Dr. Shar's Pre-Implant Temporary Breast Augmentations."

"Oh, those things."

"Planning on using them?"

Daria gave a single laugh. "Almost did, once."

"Whoa. You? Spill."

"Remember how I had to dress like Quinn to snap her out of that brainy poet phase?"

"No!"

Daria looked down the front of her shirt. "I…um…wasn't quite…as…well developed at sixteen, but couldn't bring myself…to install them. I'm glad that just walking past Quinn's room dressed like her was enough. If anyone else would have actually seen me, I would have died."

"I bet Michael would be impressed."

Daria lunged for the box. "Don't even think it!"

* * *

The "Thursday" quote from Douglas Adam's _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

Thanks to the residents of PPMB for comments and suggestions: Kristen Bealer, Isa Yo-Jo, Lawndale Stalker, Mike Nassour, The Angst Guy, Ranger Thorne, ipswichfan, Mahna Mahna, Staren, Steven Galloway, DJ, Decelaraptor, and et alia.

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mike Nassour, Mr. Orange, and Deref for beta reading and other commentary.

October, 2004  
Rev. February 2005


	21. Keeping My Friends Close

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the twenty-first story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Keeping My Friends Close**

Raft University student Daria Morgendorffer walked out of the hall of her south Boston apartment to face the morning. She noticed her roommate, Jane Lane, sitting at the dining table, still in her night shirt and slouched over a plate containing what appeared to be shredded cardboard covered with syrup. A very large mug of coffee emblazoned 'Boston Fine Arts College' was raised to Jane's lips.

Daria looked again at the plate. "Jane…please tell me you are not eating paper pulp."

Jane leaned forward to focus on Daria. "Huh?"

"That substance on your plate; what is it?"

"Uh?" Jane looked down and back up. "Pancakes."

"Jane, pancakes are normally flat."

"Yeah…well…they ended up…scrambled."

Daria shook her head. "I'm afraid to go in the kitchen."

Jane mumbled around a mouthful. "Hey, one bowl; one pan."

Daria looked inside and breathed a sigh of relief. "With how that stuff looked…"

Jane smirked. "Hey, I don't cook pretty like you; I just want the fuel in me."

Daria went into the kitchen. A minute later, she returned with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. "Yeah, this is authentic 'pretty' cooking. Ready to face the first day of summer classes?"

Jane curled one side of her mouth into a sneer. "How did you talk me into this?"

* * *

At 9:00 AM, Daria rushed into the office of Raft University Press for her first day of work, and knocked on the chief editor's door. "Dr. Killarny? It's Daria Morgendorffer."

Dr. Killarny looked up from his desk. "Good morning, young lady. I hope that distraction during your interview has been cleared up."

She nodded. "Completely."

"Good. You seem a little out of breath."

"I had a delay getting my parking decal and had to run from the lot."

"I see." He directed her to a workstation toward the back of the main editorial room. "This will be your personal space, such as it is."

It was a grey, government surplus metal desk with chipped chrome handles on the drawers. However, the computer looked new, and it had more drives that she had ever seen on a single unit, a CD, a CD-R, both sizes of floppy, and a zip drive. "Nice system. Why so many drives?"

"So it can handle submissions on almost any media. We're just starting to accept submissions electronically from start to finish."

"Interesting."

"You get to do the plain grunt work of proofreading. The regular editorial staff will take care of the rest; you will be checking for typos and format errors. Each submission will have the native word processor program marked on the media. Just open in that and mark all of your edits in red."

"Okay."

He handed her a stack of diskettes. "Good, you can get started."

* * *

The noon-time crowd at the Raft Sandwich Shop was thinner than Daria was accustomed to. "I can get used to this." The line was less hectic and there were choices of places to sit, instead of grabbing the first vacated chair. Daria also had room to place her backpack on the table and go through her books and schedule. "Monday, Wednesday: American Lit One and Political Science. Tuesday, Thursday: Primary Grades Teaching Methods and Survey of Theater. All in the afternoon."

Daria watched traffic go by in the mid-May afternoon as she ate her lunch. She thought of how much her life had changed since her last summer had started after graduation from high school. _Was that really less than a year ago? So much has happened._

Fingering a gold pendant set with a rich green stone, Daria also thought of the "distraction" Dr. Killarny had mentioned. During her job interview, she was in the middle of a temporary breakup with Michael Fulton, one of the many things that had happened during her freshman year. They'd patched things up after a comedy of errors. _I already miss you._

* * *

Jane opened the door to a man in a gray telephone company uniform.

He looked down at a clipboard. "You Miss Lane or Miss Morgendorffer?"

"Lane. You here for the phone?"

"That's what they're paying me for." He walked into the apartment. "I turned things on outside, need to check the inside line. Where's the jack?"

Jane motioned to the wall jack in the dining room. "Over there."

The man grunted and walked over, bending down to connect a work phone to the jack.

Jane gave him a queasy smirk and walked back to her easel, mumbling, "Only the finest quality butt cracks need apply." She went back to painting.

After about ten minutes, he approached, holding out the clipboard. "Need you to sign, lady. Everything works." Jane signed the form and handed it back. He gave her a piece of paper. "Here's the new phone number. Have a nice day." He turned and shuffled toward the door.

Jane looked as he left. "Um…yeah. You, too."

* * *

The scent of the "low-odor" turpentine substitute Jane used made Daria wrinkle her nose as she entered the apartment. Jane had her easel set up in the living room, painting from a sketch series pinned to a second easel. Daria said as she put down her backpack, "Ugh. I thought you were going to ventilate when you painted out here?"

Jane looked over. "Oops, I forgot."

Daria sighed and opened a window. "I know you were used to doing whatever at Casa Lane, but you did remember to open a window when you were at my house. That stuff is better than turpentine, but it still can't be good for you to breathe."

"Nmm. I suppose you're right. How was the first day on the new job?"

"Not bad. I get to work on a killer computer, that's fast, has a lot of memory, and has more drives than I know what to do with."

"What about the actual work?"

"With an interesting manuscript, fun. With a dull manuscript, excruciating."

* * *

The following afternoon, a soft, relaxed smile crossed Daria's face as her fingers tapped easily over the computer keyboard.

**Flames danced exceptionally close to her face as Melody worked the lock pick in the handcuffs. Feeling more than hearing the click, the cuffs opened and Melody was free of the post. With a determined scowl, she rolled away from the flames and hissed, "Okay Alexei, now we play on my terms." **

She quietly said as she wrote, "I've read most of the plays in my theater class. With my highly expressive voice, I should be able to scam out of any on-stage parts. Though, it is odd that there are only four women in the class." Daria shrugged and stopped typing, reading what she had just entered. "It should leave me more free time to write. With a little luck, I can get some more stories written and sold."

The sound of the doorbell roused Daria from her muse. She saved and closed the file before going to the front door. She rose up onto her toes to see through the peephole. Outside was a man in a green uniform with "Boston Cable" embroidered over one pocket. She cracked the door open, keeping the chain in place.

"Hey, lady...you Miss Morgendotter?" The man at the door asked in a native Boston accent.

Daria rubbed her head. "Morgendorffer. I assume you're the cable technician?"

"Yeah, that's me." The man looked at his clipboard. "Okay, two hookups, cable modem at one of those."

"Yes." Daria opened the chain and allowed the man inside.

"Wonderful. Better get to work."

The installer worked quickly and efficiently. As he started to setup the cable modem on Daria's computer, he said, "You must be a bunch of college students living here."

"Yeah, that's right."

He laughed and said, "Three computers, two cable hookups and you have camp chairs in the living room. College students are the only ones that would do that."

Daria gave him a small smile. "Guess it says something about our priorities."

"As long as it works for you." He looked down the hall, smiled, and looked up at Daria. "One modem, three computers. Hmm. There's a little Mom and Pop electronics store down the road a bit that has the best price locally for routers."

Daria looked sidelong at him. "And you are altruistically giving me this advice, because?"

"They're old family friends. But, they really do have good deals on them."

"Um, thanks."

He finished with the setup and did a quick opening of the browser. "There you go. Have fun kids."

"Do I need to sign anything?"

The technician produced his clipboard. "Like visiting the crapper, nothing's done without the paperwork. Sign at the bottom."

* * *

There was no mistaking Jane's return home that afternoon. Daria could hear Jane loudly proclaiming, "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!"

Daria raised her eyebrows and turned away from her computer to look down the hall. "Glad you're home, too."

Jane stomped down the hall to Daria's room. "All freakin' new. I can't afford this crap."

"Uh…All new, what?"

"Textbooks! Couldn't find a single one used, either at BFAC's bookstore, or the independents."

"Ouch."

"No kidding. Four hundred bucks and change."

"Weren't you only budgeting for two hundred?"

"Yeah. I was planning on living off the rest until something sells at Gary's, again."

"So, how much do you have left?"

"About a hundred or so." Jane tapped her foot on the ground and looked up. "Despite all the financial aid help you found me last summer, it looks like this Lane is on the job market again."

Daria hooked an arm around the back of her chair and thought for a minute. "Well, you do have experience working at Gary's; maybe you can find a job in a gallery. Or, you also have your experience as Ms. Defoe's teaching assistant last fall."

"I suppose, but I doubt if there are many school-level TA positions out there during summer."

Daria looked innocently upward. "Or, you could always ask your old roommate, CC, if there are any openings at her dance club."

"Sure, but only if you sign up with me."

"No chance. I already have a job."

* * *

Yawning and stretching, Daria sat up in bed. "Mornings. What did humanity do to deserve mornings?" After rubbing her eyes, she put her glasses on and started for the bathroom.

Once there, she observed a multi-colored blob in the sink, foam-like in texture, with many different animal-like shapes protruding out at random angles. Daria attempted to refocus her eyes and failed. "This is just too weird for words early in the morning."

After hearing a repeated knock on her bedroom door, Jane let out an irritated, "What do you want?"

"Jane, what the hell is that in the bathroom?"

With one eye open, Jane grunted, "The toilet?"

"The toilet does not reside in the sink, is not multi-colored and does not look like the result of a delirium hallucination."

"Oh, that's one of my projects. I super glued a bunch of those supergrow sponge animals together and left it in the sink to soak up water overnight. Does it look cool?"

"Not first thing in the morning. But, at least I know it's safe to move."

Daria shuffled back to the bathroom and tossed the soggy creation into the bathtub where it landed with a resounding splat. "Artists."

* * *

Angrily biting from a slice of pizza, Jane read through the classified ads. "Damn, I graduated high school with all kinds of marketable skills."

Her aura of frustration kept a zone of clear tables around her at Easel Pizza, the preferred student lunch spot near BFAC. Alternating between destroying the pizza and drinking from her soda, Jane would pull a pencil from behind her ear to mark the paper. At other intervals, odd expletives would erupt from her as the frustration grew.

Eventually, CC ventured into the dead zone around Jane. "Hey, I heard you were scaring away the customers."

Jane gazed over the top of the paper at her blue-haired friend. "Job hunting. I'd rather be head hunting."

"Nah, you don't. The bottom's fallen out of the market."

Jane chuckled. "Thanks, I needed that. This has been a frustrating experience."

"How so?"

"Well, I'm not exactly full of marketable skills for the kinds of jobs hiring."

"Hey, you could do designs for tattoo shops."

"CC, that would remind me too much of the time I spent in jail in Fremont with Trent's band. Though the kids at the sheriff's daughter's party had fun with the temporary tattoos I did. Actually, I looked into that back in Lawndale. Most tattooists do their own designs. If or when they do buy, they pay squat."

"Well…what about some of the sign companies? Although, you would have to tailor the designs to their tastes."

"If I do that, I might as well start hacking for Gary's Gallery again. I'm too afraid to get an art job that doesn't let me do my own work. I don't want anything to mess with my creativity. So, I'm looking elsewhere."

"Hmm. Yeah, not much out there, except service jobs."

"I did sales at Gary's last summer; I'm hoping that will help, some."

"It might. Don't forget to include some of that stupid stuff from high school to inflate your resume. You did have the honor society thing, it couldn't hurt."

"I hadn't thought of that. We joked about it, but I never really thought about using it." Jane scratched her head. "Speaking of not thinking, I'm living with an English major. I should get her to proofread my resume."

"That would be a good idea."

* * *

Early that evening, Jane had several newspapers spread across the small dining table as she sorted through them. Daria was at Jane's computer, proofreading and editing Jane's resume. She called over her shoulder, "What was the name of the art colony from Hell?"

Jane curled her lip and spat out, "Ashfield."

"Look, I know you don't have great memories of the place, but getting accepted into it was a measure of your talent and skill."

"Well, at least now I can say I got something out of the place."

"See, I'm good for something."

Daria worked for another ten minutes before she printed a copy. She started to look at the sheet, frowned, and pulled her glasses down to the tip of her nose to allow her to read over the top of her glasses. "Okay, I think this is it." A tap of her finger replaced the glasses and she went out to the dining room to lay the page down in front of Jane.

Jane looked at the resume. "Cool. This looks a lot better."

Daria produced a small smile.

Jane continued, "You have a good eye for composition. I can compose images, but whenever I try to arrange text, it always looks like a ransom note."

"Just a little basic…"

Putting hands on her hips, Jane interrupted, "Take a compliment, will you?"

"Oh, um…thanks."

Daria turned when she heard the doorbell. "That must be Tim from the computer lab to set up our local computer network." Daria rose up on her toes to look through the spyhole in the door. "I really wish that thing was a little lower." She opened the door to let in a young man with scruffy blond hair and the pale stubble of a beard. He smiled and said, "Hiya, Daria. Wow, cool place."

"Come on in, this is Jane. The owner of the third computer isn't here right now, but I want to get it set up anyway."

He nodded. "Hiya, Jane."

Jane smiled and waved from the table.

Daria gave him the agreed upon cash payment. "There you go." Pointing toward her room, she said, "The computer with the cable modem is in here; so are all the components you asked for."

"What about the donuts?"

Daria looked to Jane. "Please? They're in the kitchen."

"Sure, feed the techie."

Daria escorted Tim into her room as Jane retrieved the donuts. The router was efficiently set up and soon he was bouncing between computers stringing cable, trying to get the network settings to match, and munching on donuts through the entire process.

"I love mixing PCs and Macs on the same network," Tim sarcastically said as he made adjustments to Jane's computer, "They never seem to work and play well together."

Jane snickered at the comment. "Kind of like life."

As he was finishing up, he gazed around the Jane's room. "Hmm. Three pretty girls under one roof. Are any of you interested in a sophisticated but plain talking young man of extraordinary taste?"

Jane closed her eyes and groaned. "Please tell me you're not trolling for a date."

"Well, since I was here…"

"No, thanks. Don't ask Daria either, she already has someone."

He nodded and lecherously grinned. "I'm not your type, no problem. However…if you want to earn a little extra money, I can hook up a few webcams and…"

Jane blanched as she clenched fists at her side and barked, "Out…Now!"

Rushing down the hall, Daria called out, "What's going on?"

Jane spun toward her, wide-eyed. "Where did you find this git? The little pervert…"

Turning to Tim, Daria asked, "Did you hit on Jane?"

"I just asked…"

Jane glowered, "That I could deal with, but his little business proposal…"

Daria's eyes widened. "Business proposal?"

Jane snarled, "Webcams."

Daria grabbed Tim's arm and guided him toward the front door. "You better leave before you start losing body parts."

He shook loose and continued heading out. "Sheesh, I was just trying to have a little fun and make some money for all of us."

Daria glared at him. "A little fun is fine, but a business proposition like that from someone you just met doesn't go over very well. Thanks for the install, but I wish you hadn't said that."

"Oh, well. Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Yes, I can."

Jane called from the dining room, "I can mutilate!"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I screwed up. Um…thanks for the donuts."

He closed the door and jogged down the stairs.

Jane continued to glare at Daria. "Dammit! Why did you invite a pervert like that into here?" Jane was still pale and her hands shook slightly.

With hands spread wide, Daria said, "I had no idea. He didn't show any sign of being that way when he fixed the office computers where I worked last term."

Jane calmed a little. "Look…please be more careful next time? He scared me. We were in my room when he said that."

"I'm rattled, too. He spent more time in my room. I'm sorry."

"Okay." Jane sat down and forced herself to relax more. "Things are a lot different from Lawndale or the dorms."

"Life in the big city, I guess. Though, we did have some world-class lowlifes in Highland. However boring it may have been, Lawndale was a safe place to be."

"I have to admit it, you're right. Growing up there, I guess I've been a little sheltered. Then to a dorm and basically living on campus at BFAC or Raft when I visited you. This is the first time I've been out from under shelter."

"We really need to be more careful. I'm sorry for bringing him over."

"It's okay. No harm done. But next time, I keep the pepper spray handy."

"Agreed."

Directing her attention back to the papers, Jane fell quiet. Daria went back to her room and opened her email. _A little diversion would do me some good. I haven't sent new contact info to Amy, yet._ Opening a new mail to her aunt, Daria typed:

**Hi, Amy.**

**Just a quick note to let you know Jane and I have set up housekeeping in the apartment I told you about. Things have been no more strained than last fall when I was getting used to Karen, just a few minor annoyances. She's out job hunting now, been a little grumpy lately because of that. Anyway, my new address and phone number are in the sig I'm using.**

**Daria.**

After sending, Daria checked her inbox. "Jodie?" Daria opened the message from her old Lawndale High classmate, Jodie Landon. After a reading, Daria gave a slim smile and typed a response.

**Jodie,**

**That's brilliant. Crazy, but brilliant. I think I can work things out for you at my end before we get together. However, I really hope you realize what you are getting yourself in for. I won't take responsibility for any brain damage that may occur.**

**Jane and I are looking forward to seeing you and Mack in a couple weeks.**

**Daria.**

* * *

Jane frowned behind the wheel of her black sedan, stopped at a light. She held a map and a slip of paper with an address in front of her. "Where the hell am I?" A horn blast from behind made her look up to see the green light. "Dammit." She accelerated past the intersection and tried to catch a street sign that matched anything she'd seen on the map. "You'd think after all the driving I've done around this city in the last week looking for jobs, I wouldn't be lost." With growing frustration, she continued looking until she spotted a large building with "Boston Children's Hospital" on a large sign out front.

Relieved, she parked nearby. She opened the door and swiveled her legs out, pulling off her boots and showing that she was dressed in much more formal attire than usual; a black skirt and blazer combination. After placing the boots on the passenger side floorboard, she pulled on some low-heel black shoes. "God, I hate these things." Grabbing a copy of her resume from a folder, she closed and locked the car. Turning toward the building, she closed her eyes. "Okay Lane, calm down. You've been cranky for the last couple days. Even if Daria will put up with it, you won't a get job like that." After a few minutes, Jane headed inside.

After a brief discussion with the receptionist, she was directed to an office at the end of the hall. Jane looked through the open door. "Mrs. Marquez?"

A Latin woman with long black hair looked up from the desk. She was in her early fifties and had the rounded form of one who spends most of their time deskbound. "May I help you?"

"I'm Jane Lane. I'm applying for the position you advertised."

"Please, have a seat. May I see your resume?"

Jane passed the printed pages over. Mrs. Marquez read it with practiced ease, making comments as she did. "BFAC student…teaching assistant…hmm…Honor Society for artistic endeavors…hospital arts and crafts volunteer."

Jane sat with her hands folded in her lap, continually making sure she didn't tap her foot while waiting.

"You have an impressive art background and very similar previous experience to what we need. You may find this next question a little odd, but I find it tends to be useful. If you could change one thing you did as a hospital volunteer, what would it be?"

Jane momentarily looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Um…in hindsight, work with the staff better."

Mrs. Marquez smiled and jotted down a note. "Tell me, what kind of things would you like to have the children work on?"

"Let them create things themselves. Have them experiment with different media and ideas that they normally wouldn't see in arts and crafts. No popsicle-stick art."

After another note, Mrs. Marquez said, "You realize that we have to be careful about what kind of person we hire to work with our children. Have you ever been arrested?"

"The closest was a day I spent in jail with my brother's band for a traffic violation. I ended up working off my debt to society by creating some art at a birthday party for the sheriff's daughter."

"Hmm." Another note. "Any experience with things like babysitting?"

"My older sister's kids."

"Okay." Mrs. Marquez asked, "Do you mind if I call the principal of your high school?"

Jane suppressed the urge to shrug and said, "Please, go ahead."

Claire Defoe sat at the principal's desk of Lawndale High School. A little over three weeks before, her predecessor, Angela Li, had been arrested as the result of a student-athlete grade-fixing scandal. As the only senior faculty member not implicated and without other "problems", she had been tapped as acting principal. With visible relief, Claire turned away from the computer monitor and answered the phone. "Claire Defoe."

"Good afternoon. My name is Isabel Marquez; I'm with the Boston Children's Hospital. One of your former students used your name as a reference; do you have a few minutes?"

"Why, yes. You caught me at a good time. Who are you interested in?"

"A Ms. Jane Lane. Her resume states she worked with you as a teaching assistant last fall."

"That's correct. She did an excellent job. Is she applying for another assistant position?"

"Not exactly. She also reported being a hospital volunteer…teaching arts and crafts to children."

"I remember…she had such a good time doing that."

"I'm interviewing her for a similar position here at the Boston Children's Hospital. Setting up and running art activities for some of our long-term patients."

"Just a moment, please." Claire went to a filing cabinet and after a few moments, removed a folder. After a short search, she located the pages she was after. She returned to the desk and picked up the phone. "Here they are. The school received several letters from the children saying how much they enjoyed working with her and hoped she would come back."

"That sounds encouraging."

"I know from having her as my assistant that she's a natural teacher and I think she'll do an excellent job."

"I also see that she was the inaugural arts representative for an honor society at your school."

"Correct, I was the person that nominated her. She was the most talented student I've had the pleasure of teaching."

"Isn't that a little unusual for a principal?"

"I'm the acting principal. I normally teach art."

"Oh. Thank you, Ms. Defoe. Please have a nice day."

"You, too."

Mrs. Marquez redirected her attention to Jane. "That went very well. I like what I see here and what I heard. When can you start?"

"You want me!"

"Yes, Ms. Lane. Ms. Defoe gave you an excellent recommendation. When can you start?"

"Tomorrow. I can get here by two."

"Congratulations. Now, I'll need you to get with my secretary to fill out some forms."

* * *

Daria sat in one of the folding chairs in the living room, her feet propped on another, watching television. The _Sick, Sad, World_ reporter asked Artie, "Tell us what this new plot you've uncovered is."

The acne-faced man looked directly at the camera. "The aliens have infiltrated the world business community. They now control all hiring and firing decisions. If they believe you're any kind of threat, you can't get a job. If you do find a job, it'll be where they want you to be."

Daria shook her head at the frequent guest. "Artie, are you making appearances on this show your career? What does that tell us about the alien's plan for you?" She stretched her legs out and leaned back. "I've missed this."

Jane burst through the door and rushed up to Daria. "I got a job!"

Turning, Daria said, "You did?"

"Thanks to Ms. Li's enforced volunteerism."

Daria said in horror, "Did I just hear 'thanks to Ms Li' coming from you?"

Jane shrugged a shoulder. "I'll be teaching arts and crafts at a children's hospital residence. One of those places where families can stay while a kid gets long-term treatment. A lot like my volunteer work."

Recovering from her shock, Daria smiled and said, "Wow. But, aren't you worried about what happened last time?"

With a lopsided grin, Jane said, "I think I'll try to behave a little better. Including a scalping in that mural was probably not a good idea back in Lawndale. I had fun last time and I missed doing it."

"Could be. How much creativity will you have?"

"I'll have a lot of latitude in what I teach, as long as it is age appropriate."

"Jane, you do realize you're teaching again?"

"Damn, you're right."

"Continuing your path to the dark side?"

"At least I'm not majoring in it."

"Touché"

"I start tomorrow. Hey, now I won't have to mooch off of you the first month I'm here."

"Much to my relief," Daria said with a slight smile.

Jane pulled up one of the remaining chairs and sat facing Daria. "I owe you again; that resume helped a lot. I hadn't thought of including that volunteer work before."

"Don't mention it."

"Daria, I'm mentioning it because I appreciate all you're doing."

"Don't thank me yet. You're going to be working with children."

"Kids aren't all that bad."

"Particularly with a little ketchup."

With rolled eyes, Jane said, "Daria, I like kids."

"Are you starting to turn all maternal on me?"

After a moment of thought, Jane said, "A little. I know you've never been comfortable around children. Probably weren't when you were one. But, someday I…plan on having one or two of my own."

Daria became serious herself, "I've long figured that." Daria gave Jane a kind smile. "And I think you'll be a caring mother to them."

"Don't downplay yourself. Look at all you've done in the last year for me…Karen…Jodie..."

"Hey, I'm only trying to keep my friends close."

"Because?"

"It's easier to get to their necks."

Jane crossed her arms. _Right._

* * *

Thanks to the residents of PPMB for comments, Isa Yo-Jo, The Angst Guy, Kristen Bealer, Steven Galloway, nonamejane, and Lawndale Stalker.

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

November 2004  
Revised February 2005


	22. Fashionable Graduation

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the twenty-second story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Fashionable Graduation**

Claire Defoe sipped from her morning carrot juice and rubbed her temples. Looking around the office, she thought in disbelief. _My office. That still sounds so strange. A month ago, this was Ms. Li's office._

Claire looked back down at her desk to finish reading a letter before signing it. _Li arrested, Coach Gibson fired, Coach Morris turning state's evidence against Li. Disciplinary actions against several of the faculty._ Claire neatly folded the letter and put it in an envelope. _And I get stuck as principal because I've behaved myself over the years. No good deed goes unpunished._ She sealed the envelope and dropped it in a basket on her desk. _They better find a replacement over the summer._

She read through another sheet of paper before moving a microphone in front of her. "Good morning. I only have a couple of announcements on this last day of class. Seniors who've not picked up their caps and gowns should do so before leaving campus today. All textbooks must be returned to the issuing faculty or your grades or diplomas will be withheld until the book is turned in or paid for. All students are asked to empty their lockers and leave the doors open when they leave. Good luck on your remaining finals and have a happy summer."

Setting the announcements aside, she picked up a calligraphy pen and set four certificates in front of her. As she signed the first two in a beautiful, flowing script, she said, "Things like this make the job almost worth keeping." She smiled as she signed the third. "It'll be good to see Jane again when she hands this one out." Reading the final one, Claire giggled like a small child.

* * *

"Okay, Amiga, call it." Jane Lane flipped the quarter into the air. She and Daria Morgendorffer stood near the door of their Boston apartment.

With a sigh, Daria said, "Heads."

Jane caught the coin and slapped it onto the back of her hand. "Tails. We take my car."

"Are you happy now?"

"Yes, I get to show off the new paint job."

"All you had to do was ask."

"But, the coin toss was more fun."

"Drama Queen."

"You're the one taking theater this semester."

Daria shook her head. "It was the only humanities elective I could get in an afternoon time slot."

"But you're still in the play."

"Just because there are only four women in the class, and I'm one of the only two that can speak French."

Jane mischievously raised one eyebrow. "It's fun imagining you as Katherine in _Henry V_."

"I can barely imagine it myself. Let alone actually doing it. At least Dr. Paine is doing a traditional production. I couldn't handle one of those oddball settings."

"I'm still offering to help play techie."

"We might take you up on that, though you'll probably have too much fun."

"That's the idea."

"And then I'll have to take you to the cast party."

"I can only hope."

"We better get going, with that six hour drive ahead of us."

Jane shook her head and looked at Daria more seriously. "Are we really going to do this?"

"We don't have a choice. We might have made up the Lawndale High School Student Leaders Honor Society to rescue Jodie from being overworked by her parents, but part of the deal to get Ms. Murphey as sponsor was to pass it on as a real entity. We have to put that into action tomorrow."

"But, I barely sat through our graduation. Now I have to sit through another?"

"Yep, and we get to sit up front as honored guests."

"Ergh."

"And, we get to make speeches."

"Argh."

"Too bad we won't get to see Ms. Li squirm at our repeat appearance."

"I suppose giving Claire a little moral support would be worth the effort."

"Softy."

"Hey, would you like to have tried to pick up the mess Li left behind?"

"Ouch. That was low. Okay, my minimal conscience says we should be nice to her."

"But at least we won't be alone; Jodie and Mack get to share the misery."

Daria grinned. "It'll be nice to see them again, too."

Jane picked up a round suitcase with a skull on one face. "Don't forget, we're also going to hit Lindy's graduation tonight."

"I'm not forgetting."

"Okay, pack it up and move it out."

Daria grabbed a black travel bag and followed Jane. "Yah."

After locking up, both young women went down the external stairs to where two almost identical black sedans were parked. They tossed their luggage into one decorated with a phoenix rising in multicolored glory on the hood. Each feather was carefully detailed, and the flames slipped over the edge of the hood and flowed back along the sides. Jane moved to the driver's side as Daria got in the passenger door. Jane said over the roof. "The offer's still open to do a mural on yours."

Daria looked over the hood. "Maybe…if I can decide on something. I never have been one for showing off."

"You won't be showing off, the car will. Let it have a little attention."

Daria shook her head as she got in and closed the door. "I'm going to hear this all the way to Lawndale."

* * *

Jodie Landon took a deep breath as she opened the front door to her parents' home. "Mom, Dad? I'm home."

Michelle and Andrew Landon rushed to the door to greet their daughter. Andrew said, "Welcome home," and hugged Jodie before he retreated to the den. Michelle kissed Jodie on the cheek and hugged her, also. "It's good to have you back. After you say hello to your brother and sister, meet us in the den." Michelle nodded to her younger children as she also walked away.

Jodie's little sister, Rachael, waved and smiled. Her brother, Evan, toddled toward her with arms outstretched and said, "'Odie!" Jodie squatted down and hugged the small boy. "You have grown since Christmas." After releasing him, she went over to her sister. "Ready to start high school next year?"

Rachael produced a weak smile. "Mainly because it'll be a year closer to escaping this place. Thank God you're home for the summer."

"I wouldn't completely abandon my little sister."

"It's been nuts around here. Mom's trying to work from the home office; Dad still doesn't want to put Evan into daycare. Half the time, I get stuck watching him."

Jodie placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'll do what I can to get you time off for good behavior."

Rachael gave a grim laugh. "Like you're going to have any time. They have just as much crap planned for you this summer as last."

Jodie grinned. "But this year, I'm prepared and I have a plan."

Rachael grinned at her sister. "Go on."

Jodie grinned wider. "Listen." Jodie walked toward the Den, motioning Rachael to follow and stay out of sight near the door. When she entered the den, she said, "You two wanted to see me?"

Andrew turned his attention away from his computer. "I have some incredible opportunities set up for you this summer. Besides interning with my firm, the congressman wants you to help with his Senate campaign…"

Jodie raised her hand. "Mom, Dad. I can't."

Michelle rose from her chair. "What! This little rebelliousness of yours is getting to be enough."

Andrew's eyes flashed. "We are not going to have our star daughter miss out on making the most of her time."

Jodie allowed a brief, predatory smile. "It's nothing like that. I've accepted a summer internship at a consulting firm. I'm committed to that full-time. Since I want to eventually run a consulting business geared toward minority startups, this will be valuable experience."

Andrew stopped short. "That's more like my go-getter. You're no longer relying on the old man and setting things up on your own. Great!"

Michelle relaxed. "That's good news. After some of the things you've done this last year at college, we've been worried. So, where will you be working?"

"Morgendorffer Consulting."

* * *

Releasing a surprised sigh, Quinn Morgendorffer set her pencil down and eased back in her desk. _It really is over. My last high school test is complete._ She looked around at her closest friends, all busy with their tests. Stacy Rowe chewed on her pencil and had the nervous expression she always wore during exams. Tiffany Blum-Deckler's almost unblinking, blank gaze never left the exam page; the mix of apparent emptiness and concentration was unsettling. At intervals, she would slowly move the pencil to mark the page. Sandi Griffin scowled at the page and made abrupt marks with frustrated intensity. Quinn turned her test over and closed her eyes to await the final bell.

Anthony Demartino picked up the exams just before the end of class. "For those of you on the…borderline…you may wish to stay around for a few minutes while I grade your exams. That way…you will know whether or not to bother showing up for tomorrow's ceremony." His voice was cut off by the bell and a roar from the departing seniors.

As the four young women left the classroom, Quinn told the rest, "I'll catch up with you later. There's something I need to check up on."

Sandi nodded and said, "Okay, but don't be late. This is our last chance to get our student discounts at Cashman's."

Quinn waved. "I'll be there."

Quinn went to Mr. O'Neill's classroom and waited outside for a few minutes. She was startled to hear former QB, Kevin Thompson's voice echo out of the room, "Aw right!"

Quinn smiled to herself. "He did it."

Kevin rushed out of the room. Quinn called, "Kevin! Over here."

He ran over, grabbed her in a hug, and spun her around. "I did it! I'm going to graduate!"

Quinn tapped both his shoulders with her hands. "That's wonderful. Now put me down, please."

"Oh, yeah." He set her down with a little clumsiness. "Quinn. Thanks. I wouldn't have made it without your help."

"You're welcome."

He jumped up and down again. "Yeah! I'm graduating."

Quinn shook her head. "I heard."

Mr. O'Neill exited his room. "Quinn, I've been very impressed with the work you've done helping Kevin and Tiffany. Have you ever considered a career in teaching?"

Quinn turned in shock. "What? Um…" She looked at her watch. "That late already? Gotta go. Bye." She sprinted down the hall toward the parking lot.

* * *

Theresa completed the transaction with Tiffany. "There you go. Your last student discount at Cashman's. How does it feel to be going out into the world?"

Tiffany looked at her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm modeling for a local agency."

Stacy smiled at her friend. "Actually, I'm going to be staying nearby, too. I'm going to Lawndale Community College for a business AA and going to try to go professional with racing."

Sandi straightened her back. "I'll be going to North Coastal State for a degree in Human Resources."

Theresa looked at Quinn. "I remember when you got into Pepperhill. Have you decided on a major?"

"Marketing. Why follow trends when I can make them?"

Sandi looked at her. "But, isn't your dad a marketing consultant?"

Quinn grinned. "He is. If nothing else is available, it'll be nice to have a ready-made position when I graduate."

Stacy asked, "Your father's cool with it?"

"He doesn't know, yet. But, I'm sure I can convince him."

* * *

It was early evening, but still light, when Jane and Daria parked near the Lawndale State University auditorium. Jane checked her watch as both got out of the car. "Five minutes to spare."

Recovering, Daria said, "Great, and we're still in one piece."

Jane tugged on Daria to pull her a little faster toward the building. "Okay, so I was a little rushed."

"That's an understatement."

"Lindy's been real good for Trent. I want to be here for her."

"I understand. We should have left Boston a little earlier, or not taken so long to find a place for lunch."

"Hey, we made it."

"Barely. I think my fingerprints are permanently impressed into the armrest."

People of all ages were seated in the auditorium. Jane and Daria managed to find a seat near the back of the room. They could faintly see Trent in the row behind the graduating students. After a few moments, it was clear that he was behind his girlfriend, Lindy Weaver. Jane pointed at them. "There they are. Not a chance we can get close to them now."

Daria shaded her eyes and saw them. "We'll have to track them down afterward. Though in this crowd, it's going to be a pain."

"Nah, we'll just wait for the crowd to clear. I bet you Trent doesn't make it all the way through without falling asleep."

"He made it through ours."

"That was because I slipped a little extra caffeine into his coffee before we drove over."

"A little?"

"Okay, a lot."

"I'm sure Lindy thought of something similar."

"Hmm. Maybe."

"Or, she uses other motivations not available to you."

"Other…um…yeah. Let's not go there."

Daria smirked.

* * *

Lindy and Trent were still at their seats talking when Jane and Daria walked up. Jane plopped down beside her brother. "Hey kids, what's up?"

Trent one-arm hugged his sister. "Janey! Daria! You made it."

Lindy turned and smiled. "Jane, Daria. Thanks for coming."

Jane leaned over and hugged Lindy. "Congratulations."

Daria squeezed past Jane to hug Trent. "How're things going?"

"Pretty good, I think. Now that Lindy's graduated, she can take a little time off to relax."

Lindy said, "Relax? I need to find a real job, now."

Trent smiled. "Just a week, okay? You deserve it." He gave her a quick kiss. "You've been working way too hard lately. Keep your part-time job and get some rest. You can look later."

Jane said past her smirk, "Thus, the master slacker speaks."

Daria patted Trent's shoulder. "He has a point. Get a little rest."

Jane squinted at Daria. "Did you just say that?"

"Yes. I know how tired I am after one year of college; four must be even worse. I'm not the best example of following such advice, but take a little time off."

Lindy nodded her head. "Maybe, I will."

Daria added, "It might be the last chance you get."

* * *

Approaching eleven o'clock, Jane pulled into the Morgendorffer driveway. She yawned and said, "As much as I'd like to say hi to your parents, I'm really tired. I'll see them tomorrow."

Daria covered her mouth as she also yawned. "You're being contagious. I'll let them know." She reached over the seat and pulled her bag forward. It caught on the edge and tipped.

A flat container fell out of a side pocket and landed on the seat next to Jane. She picked it up and flipped the lid open. "Hmm. Twenty-eight little pills." With a wicked grin and raised eyebrows, she said, "Has there been some important news you've been holding out on telling me?"

Daria flushed a bright red. "No!"

Jane closed the lid and waved the container. "Okay…so there's no particular reason for these, then?"

With more blushing, Daria said, "When Michael and I were here alone last month…things got very…um…tempting. I figured I'd better get started as a precaution, in case."

Jane grinned and slipped the container back into the pocket and pulled the zipper tight. "Showing more signs of being human all the time. So, you do more than chaste kisses and hand holding?"

"You're not going to let me get away until I answer, are you?"

"You know I can outrun you."

Sighing, Daria acquiesced. "Yes, we do more."

"Come on girl, at least a couple details. How am I going to live vicariously if you won't give me anything to go on?"

Folding in shyness with hands clasped in her lap, Daria said, "Nothing more than touching, and…um…I can't believe I'm saying this…some…passionate kissing. We haven't removed any clothes. But…" Daria blushed again. "…he found some unexpected places that…I enjoy being touched."

"And that ever-present Morgendorffer pragmatism said to get started well before you get close."

Daria nodded.

"So, you haven't been on them for long."

"That's the first pack."

"Why try to hide it?"

"Because I knew you'd give me a hard time about them."

Jane giggled, "Now I get to try to imagine where…"

Daria shook her head and left the car. "Argh!"

Jane called after her, "I'll try to keep it clean. I'll pick you up tomorrow to go over to the Landon's." She backed the car out the driveway and thought. _That dream I overheard a couple weeks ago…_

Daria didn't bother to knock and entered her old home. Quinn's voice traveled from the living room, "Sandi…Yes, I knew she was going to be giving a speech….They only announced it during that school assembly at the beginning of the year…No, Sandi…They're brains; they like getting recognized for stuff like that…It's not like she's the only one, Jodie, Mack and Ms. Lane will also be there."

Daria noticed the living room was otherwise empty. _I'm not up to that._ She went upstairs to her room and dropped the bag on the floor as she sat on the bed for a few moments to calm down. Feeling more secure, she said, "I better go check-in with the parental units"

She went down the hall to her parents' room. After a knock, Helen's voice said, "Yes?"

Daria opened the door. "Hi, Mom. I made it."

Helen carefully got out of bed to avoid waking Jake and hugged Daria. "Welcome home. We were getting worried."

Daria smirked at her sleeping father. "I can tell. We ended up talking with Trent and Lindy for a long time."

"That's nice. How are they doing?"

"Okay. We convinced Lindy to take a little time off before job hunting. With more reliable transportation, Trent's band might be getting more out of town gigs."

"And, how're you doing?"

"Work's good, school's good."

"And other things?"

Daria was saddened. "I miss Michael. Besides bailing him out in Boulder, did you ever have to spend a lot of time separated from Dad?"

"Only a couple weeks in December of that same year. He went to California to do some volunteer work and had his big adventure at Altamonte. Plus, those two weeks he stayed behind to finish up work in Virginia when we moved to Highland."

"So, no great motherly advice on how to get through the summer?"

Helen hugged her daughter. "I'm sorry, but that's something I never experienced. But, you'll do fine."

Daria stared at Helen. "How can you be so sure?"

Helen smiled. "I might know you a little better than you think."

* * *

Confused by the light under the door of her sister's old room, Quinn hesitantly knocked. "Daria, are you in there?"

"Yeah, Quinn. You were on the phone with Sandi and I didn't want to interrupt." Daria finished pulling a blue t-shirt on and opened the door. "I talked with Mom a bit and was waiting for you to pull yourself free."

Quinn smirked a little. "I wish you'd said something. I could have escaped quicker."

"Did I just hear right? Escape from one of the fashion foursome?"

Quinn avoided Daria's eyes. "She was complaining about you giving that presentation at graduation tomorrow."

"Big deal, I say a few words and hand out a certificate. I'm being punished for doing a good job in high school by having to participate in a second graduation ceremony."

"Sandi…kind of blames you for her losing her job."

"How could I do that?"

_Way to put your foot in it, Quinn._ "Um…you remember that award dinner Mom made us go to last summer?"

"Yes."

"Sandi's mom works at that TV station and brought a tape home of it to ask Sandi who you were. Mrs. Griffin hadn't recognized you."

Daria briefly laughed at Linda Griffin not recognizing her in a formal gown, and then she mentally added things up. In a barely controlled voice, she barked, "Then how in the hell did Upchuck get a copy?"

Quinn stepped back in surprise. "Uh…Sandi's little brother gave it to Upchuck to copy some…uh…movies onto. When your picture from the tape showed up on one of Upchuck's websites, the network got mad and Mrs. Griffin made sure Sandi got the blame. Wait, how did you know Upchuck had gotten it?"

Daria's temper dropped off and she quietly said, "Damn. I did cost Sandi her job."

In confusion, Quinn asked, "You did?"

"I discovered Upchuck's website. It wasn't just one picture. It had a bunch of different pictures of me through high school, which was very unsettling. I arranged for an anonymous tip to go to the network. I just wanted to get Upchuck's website taken down. It was, within a day of having that tip sent in. I must be responsible."

"Oh."

"Mrs. Griffin really dropped the blame on Sandi even though she took the tape home?"

"I couldn't believe it, but she did."

"I suspected she was ruthless…but…"

"It was either blame Sandi or take the blame herself."

"Damn."

* * *

Jane yawned and scratched her ribs as she entered the kitchen of Casa Lane the next morning. She followed her nose to the smell of coffee. Good morning greetings from her mother, Amanda, and Lindy gave Jane a slight start. She cautiously said, "Mom?"

Amanda got up and held both Jane's hands. "It's good to see you home. How's college been?"

"Well, I pulled a 2.7 GPA my first term, so I guess I'm doing okay. I didn't know you were going to be home this weekend."

"I got in this morning. I was hoping to see Lindy's graduation. Since it seemed so important to you, I thought I would try with hers. But, my flight was delayed."

Feeling a little jealousy, Jane said, "Too bad you were held up. I'm sure Lindy appreciates the gesture."

"Considering my mom wasn't there, I did. Amanda's plane was grounded by fog. My mom was probably just drunk. At least you and Daria showed up."

After Jane prepared her coffee, Amanda motioned her to sit at the table. "I'm still sorry about your graduation. If I had known…"

"It's okay, Mom."

Lindy asked, "Are you and Daria doing okay as roommates?"

"We had a few rough spots to start with, but I think we got them worked out."

"Do you like your new job?"

"The kids so far have been real sweet. They have so much on their minds for being children, and get so into creating, just as a release."

Lindy smirked a little. "I guess since I took over looking after Trent, you needed to find another outlet."

Jane grinned at Lindy. "I think I got the better end of the deal."

Lindy smiled back, "All depends on your perspective."

* * *

"Daria! You have got to be kidding!" Quinn wailed as Daria left her room, tucking a white dress shirt into a black skirt.

Daria stopped in the hall and look into Quinn's room. "What is your problem?"

"God, Daria. If you're not going to wear a tie or a scarf, ditch the white shirt. With your pale skin, you just wash out into it, plus that necklace just doesn't show up well enough. Do you have a dark dress shirt with?"

"Um…yeah. I brought one as a spare."

"Go get it. You're not going up on stage at my graduation looking that geeky."

"Quinn, I…" Daria stopped and thought for a moment. "Oh, hell. I'll go change. This is your graduation. I'll try not to embarrass you, too much." She went back into her room, removing the white shirt.

Quinn shook her head as she looked at her blue graduation gown on a hanger. "I should be talking; we have to wear these hideous sacks?" She held the cap. "And what is with the flat-top look?"

Daria came back out of her room buttoning a dark blue dress shirt. Quinn rolled her eyes again. "God, you're still wearing those horrible sports bras?"

"Quinn, they're comfortable, which is a trait I much prefer to have in that particular garment."

Quinn held up her hands. "Okay, I'll back off."

"Good."

Daria finished buttoning the shirt and pulled a gold necklace with a green stone out from under it. Quinn went back into her room and returned with a hand mirror, which she held up in front of Daria. "See? The necklace shows up better, and your face doesn't get washed out."

Daria looked at the mirror and sighed. "Okay, you're right. Happy?"

Quinn put the mirror back and said, "Very. I don't often get to hear that from you."

Daria mumbled as she walked toward the stairs.

Quinn finished adjusting the sleek cut mid-length dress she wore. "Those robes may be geeky, but you can still look good under them."

* * *

Helen opened the door to find Jane in a black slacks and red dress shirt combination. "Jane, please come in. It's good to see you."

"Hi, Mrs. Morgendorffer," Jane said as she came in. "You and Mr. Morgendorffer doing well?"

"About the usual."

"Working too hard?"

Helen let out a slight moan.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Quinn and her friends were gathered in the living room, comparing their clothes and making final preparations. Tiffany looked over at the front door and said, "It's that teacher we had for study hall before Christmas."

Stacy smiled. "Hi, Ms. Lane."

Jane chuckled. "My days as LHS faculty are over. You can call me Jane."

"Oh, okay."

Sandi asked, "Um…Ms. L…Jane. Are you, like, going to be giving a speech, too?"

"As short of one as possible."

"Oh…well…break an arm or leg, or whatever it is."

In mild surprise, Jane said, "Thanks."

Quinn pointed. "Daria's in the kitchen."

Jane made a quick move in that direction. "Later, everyone."

Rounding the corner, she found Daria at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. Jane said, "Hey, ready for the big show?"

Daria stood up. "Raring." As she reached the living room, Daria hesitated as she looked at the four, and then stopped. "Sandi…I'm sorry about you losing your job at the TV station."

"Um…thanks. My Mom can be such a…"

Daria held up hand to interrupt. "I arranged for the network to get the tip."

"Huh?"

"I caused you to lose your job."

"You?"

"I wanted to get rid of Upchuck's creepy website and didn't consider what kind of other repercussions it could have."

"Was he, like, stalking you or something?"

Daria shuffled uncomfortably. "In a way, I think so."

Tiffany and Stacy chorused, "Eww."

Sandi shivered. "Okay, that would be too gross to deal with. Your actions were justified."

Daria sighed. "If there's anything I can do..."

Sandi's eye glinted with cold calculation. "I might take you up on that…later this summer."

Daria looked on in concern. _What did I get myself into?_

* * *

Jane pulled her car into the Landons' driveway and parked behind a rich blue four-door luxury sedan with a Turner College parking decal on the rear bumper. As they exited the car, Daria remarked, "Must be Jodie's"

Jane smirked. "Must be nice."

A subtle rumble could be heard approaching. It grew as a motorcycle turned into the driveway. The street racer was mostly silver, with alternating red and yellow bands around the headlight, and a red slash covering the tail fairing and extending along the side covers to just under the middle of the seat. It rolled to a stop and the black leather-clad rider removed a red helmet. Michael Mackenzie, better known as Mack, smiled at the surprised expressions on Daria and Jane's faces. "Good to see you, too."

Daria recovered first. "That…is a different look for you."

Jane shook her head. "Whoa. Talk about shaking up your image."

"Jodie and I had to be so straight-laced when we lived here. I had to do something to unwind. It's fun to ride, gets great gas mileage, and it's a lot easier to park on campus."

Jane smiled more. "Still…wow."

Mack gazed at the phoenix painted on the car hood. "Jane, that looks like your handiwork."

She brushed her knuckles on her shirt. "Yep."

Daria said, "No ego problem there."

Jane grinned back. "None at all."

Mack chuckled and leaned his head toward the house door. "We should probably head inside," he said as he started walking over.

Daria looked toward the approaching door. "What kind of reaction did you get out of Jodie's parents with that?"

Mack rang the doorbell. "We're about to find out."

Andrew opened the door and looked in surprise at the riding gear and motorcycle parked behind. "Mack? What happened to you?"

Mack looked around. "Nothing, at least that I'm aware of."

"You're wearing…you have a…you parked a…"

"Oh, the motorcycle. It's cost efficient and reliable transportation, Mr. Landon."

"You're not going to drive Jodie to the ceremony on that thing?"

Daria waved. "Hi, Mr. Landon. Jane and I are going with. I think the four of us would get a little crowded on that small seat."

Jane piped in, "Not to mention how nasty the fight would get about who rides on the handlebars."

Andrew glared at Daria. "Ah, more of your influences. I should've known."

Jodie tapped on her father's shoulder. "We're planning on going in my car. It has the most room for everyone. The honor society includes all four of us, and Daria is the president."

Andrew turned to Jodie. "Very well, everyone's going in your car. Did you know about that thing Mack has out there?"

She shrugged. "Sure. He's had it for a couple of months and rode it to Turner when he would visit."

"You haven't been riding on that?"

"Sometimes."

"I don't…you could get killed on that thing."

Jodie looked up at her father in mild annoyance. "I could get killed driving my own car. Mack is a very safe driver, and we both wear proper gear. Why do you think I came home with a leather jacket?"

Jane raised an eyebrow and looked at Mack. He leaned over and whispered, "She also looks damn good in it."

Andrew was sputtering, "But, they are…"

Jodie calmly said, "Perfectly acceptable vehicles in all manner of good society. Dad, we are old enough to make informed decisions. It's about time you started to accept that."

Andrew reared his head back and inflated his chest. "You've passed up more opportunities this year than I can count. You connived with your friend Daria to avoid what I had for you this summer, and now this. You may…" It suddenly struck him that he was in front of four intelligent, confident and well-dressed young adults who were standing up for each other. Furthermore, they were calm and he was throwing a tantrum like a spoiled teenager. Andrew deflated. "…be right," he finished saying, and stepped back inside the house with a hand motion for all to follow. "Where are my manners? Please, come in. All of you are welcome."

* * *

Daria and Jane shared the back seat of Jodie's car on the way to Lawndale High while Mack sat up front as Jodie drove. Jodie was saying, "Thanks for putting in a word with your father about doing an internship with him."

"You're going to be unpaid labor for the summer; it wasn't that hard to talk him into it. I just hope you're ready to deal with him."

"Daria, I'd rather hear one of your father's rants about military school then hear mine talk about that freakin' big bell. And if I had to work for that congressman again…" She shook her head. "I really hope he doesn't make it into the Senate."

"I guess it's all a matter of perspective. It sounds like your father originally wasn't too happy about the internship."

"You think that was bad, you should've heard my mother. The roofers should be in next week to fix the ceiling from her bouncing off it. At least he apologized for today's outburst."

Daria smiled at the image. "Dad's actually excited about your idea. He's wanted to try to get into some different business markets."

"I figured it would be great for both of us: he gets new clients, I get some great experience separate from my Dad and unwind some over the summer. Although, part of the time will be spent giving Rachael a break from babysitting Evan."

"And I thought my family was dysfunctional."

"If I were you, I'd still try to avoid Mom. You saw that Dad's been more accepting, but she still wants your head on a pike for corrupting me last summer. I think she also suspects your mother's involved."

Jane leaned over the seat. "Sometimes, I guess absentee parents are a good thing. But now let's change the subject. Mack, what're your plans for the summer?"

"Working for that ice cream company again, only this year, I'll be in charge of stock and inventory on the trucks instead of driving them."

Jane smirked. "Going to hire Kevin as a driver?"

"Are you kidding? I'm free of him and never want to hear 'Mack Daddy' again. Besides, he's a legend around there. He and Brittany cost the company over four hundred dollars in one day because they couldn't count change properly."

Jane laughed. "They were that bad?"

Mack nodded. "No kidding. I'm glad they forgot I told Kevin and Brittany about the opening."

Daria said, "Didn't anyone tell you? Kevin's graduating today."

Mack buried his face in his hands.

Jodie looked in the mirror toward Jane. "I want pictures of Daria in that play next month. After you two avoided dressing up for that medieval fair, I want to see it catch up with her."

Daria lightly growled. "I hate you."

* * *

Daria and company worked their way toward the stage set up on the football field. Jodie had a dark grey suit dress on, while Mack combined a white dress shirt and tie with the black leather jacket for an effectively formal and slightly rebellious combination.

Families and friends were filtering into the stadium seats. The students were milling around in their caps and gowns, awaiting the final call to line up for their entrance. Standing alone, Kevin Thompson waited along with the others. He was excited about finally graduating, and worried about what was to come next. He turned in response to a tap on his arm to face a well endowed young woman twirling a lock of blond hair around a finger. "Kevie. It is you."

Surprised at the sudden appearance of his old girlfriend, Brittany Taylor, he could only utter, "Britt?"

"I'm back home from Great Prairie State for the summer and thought it would be fun to get together with you again."

Kevin remembered his confusion early last summer, when she stopped returning his calls and started avoiding him. Finally, she told him _"It's over Kevie. You're going to stay here and I'm going to a big football school where the quarterbacks are real manly."_

Kevin stared at Brittany. He also remembered how she felt in his arms.

Brittany planted her feet and put hands on hips. "Well, are you going to answer?"

"Um…Hi…How have you been?"

"I've been good. How about we go to your jeep when this is over?"

The temptation was strong. His mind also went back a month to his prom date with Quinn. She had been tough in getting him ready, but nothing like what Coach Gibson used to do to get the team ready. But, he had one of the most enjoyable evenings of his life, and she was right: they didn't need to make out to have a good time.

"I'm…I don't think that's a good idea."

"What? Are you seeing somebody? I was told you haven't been dating anyone."

"No…I'm not dating anyone."

"Then, we can go out." She twirled her hair again and batted her eyes.

He remembered one of his first tutoring sessions with Quinn. They had read _The Glass Menagerie_ and he'd escaped to the back yard after one of his father's tantrums and thought, I_ can't go back to the way I was._

"Britt, you dumped me."

"Kevie, that was only because I was going away. But, I'm back now."

"What…what are you going to do at the end of this summer?"

More hair twirling. "Uh…I don't know."

Kevin looked at the ground sadly. "You'll dump me again."

"Kevie."

Kevin looked up with a determination he hadn't felt since he last played football. "No. We broke up."

"You're turning me down?"

Kevin scratched his neck. "Yeah. You dumped me. You said it was over."

"But…"

"Brittany…It's over."

Furious, Brittany strode away with a murderous glare. "Oooooh."

Kevin turned away in frustration to see four more familiar faces walking near. He hurried over to them. "Hey! Jodie, Daria, Jane, Mack Da….Mack."

Mack stopped. "He didn't say it." With two steps, he went to Kevin and extended his hand. "Kevin. Congratulations."

"Yeah, man. Fourteen years of school is finally over."

Daria looked over. "Hi, Kevin."

"Whoa, Daria. You look, kind of like…pretty…now."

Daria said, "You still know exactly what to say."

Jane nodded at Kevin. "Howdy."

Jodie approached. "Nice to see you again, Kevin."

"Hey Jodie, Jane. What brings you here? I thought you guys graduated last year."

Daria said, "We're giving out some awards. Punishment for being brains."

"Aww, man. That was mean of them to do that."

"We'll live." Daria closed her eyes in disbelief.

"You know, your sister is pretty smart. Do you think it runs in the family?"

"It might, but I'll have to get back to you on that."

"Cool."

Mr. Demartino's voiced carried over the background noise. "Okay, students. Time for you to at least try to behave one more time before you leave here. Everybody, line up like we went over during practice."

Kevin grinned. "Gotta go. Been great seeing everybody."

He jogged back to the rest of the graduates lining up. Daria shrugged. "I guess we better go get seated." They walked toward the stage and found four seats prepared for them on it.

Jane eyed the stage with suspicion. "I thought we were getting seats on the ground with our backs to the audience."

Jodie smiled. "Jane, it is customary for the 'honored' guests to be on stage for everyone to see."

Mack lightly chuckled as he started up the steps. "Oh, well. Jodie and I are used to being on display. Now you get to feel a little of what we had to put up with."

Daria gave him a grim smile. "If you two survived four years without killing someone, I suppose we can last an hour."

Ms. Defoe greeted each of them warmly as they approached their seats. "Welcome back. Thank you so much for being here."

Daria, Jodie and Mack greeted her in return. Jane stayed a little extra after the others sat. "Claire, I hope you're still holding up through this."

"I'm really glad to see you again. Congratulations on the new position."

"Thanks."

"Now that we've found most of the little surprises that Angela had left, the last week has gone much smoother."

"Good to hear."

"The faculty and students have been very supportive."

"That could be relief that Ms. Li is gone."

"Could be. But…I think they also like the way I've been handling things."

"You mean treating everyone like a person instead of an inmate?"

"I'm starting to think about applying to stay principal."

Shocked, Jane asked, "Have you gone mad?"

"I've been able to do a lot of good this last month. It hasn't been easy, but it was rewarding."

"I'm having a hard time picturing you outside a classroom."

"I know." After a quick look around, she said, "Better take your seat, we're about to start."

Ms. Defoe walked over and stood at the podium. "Welcome, family and friends to the graduation of the Lawndale High School class of 2000."

* * *

Quinn and her friends sat together in the middle of the student seating. Stacy leaned over toward Quinn and whispered, "Wow, your sister and her friends get to sit up on stage. That must be so exciting."

Quinn could see Daria's stiff pose. _I don't think exciting is the word she would use._ She turned to Stacy, "I know I'd be nervous."

"Yeah, me too. But, it's still also exciting."

Tiffany stared at Daria and Jane and said, "Hey, this reminds me of that assembly right after you got here. Did your sister and that teacher go through the esteem class again?"

Sandi shook her head. "Tiffany, they're here to give out awards."

Tiffany's eyes brightened. "Awards…Do you think we will get one for how good we look?"

Putting a hand on Tiffany's shoulder, Sandi said, "Dear, they're not that kind of award."

* * *

Ms. Defoe waved her hand toward the seated college students. "Our final awards tonight will be for the Lawndale High School Student Leaders Honor Society. The inaugural president and Academic Achievement recipient, Ms. Daria Morgendorffer."

Daria inhaled deeply to steady her nerves and went to the podium. She looked out over a graduating class that was little larger than the 85 in hers. "Thank you, Ms. Defoe. From every graduating class, four students are chosen by the faculty who best represent Student Leadership, Artistic Achievement, Athletic Leadership, and Academic Achievement. To use the words of our charter: This society will provide a venue to recognize a high school career of hard work, and to provide an atmosphere for these student leaders to network together in preparation for their future." She turned slightly toward her friends. "Please let me introduce Ms. Jodie Landon for Student Leadership, Ms. Jane Lane for Artistic Achievement, and Mr. Michael MacKenzie for Athletic Leadership."

Jodie approached the podium and opened the envelope she held. "I'm pleased to announce the Student Leadership nomination goes to…Ms. Rhiannon Jenkins." Jodie smiled as the young woman with long, flowing blond hair approached from her seat behind the podium. Jodie stepped aside and smiled. "Valedictorian, Diane Fossy Award and now this. Well deserved honors for a talented and dedicated young woman."

Sandi looked up with some jealousy. "God, what doesn't that girl get? I would've thought Prom Queen was enough."

Quinn eyed Sandi. "Sandi, she did do a lot of stuff. Nobody noticed much while Jodie was here."

"Still, I would think that they'd spread these things around a bit more."

"I know she didn't do any art or music, so she can't get that one."

Stacy added, "She was on the girl's volleyball team, but didn't do that much. I don't think that she'll get the athletic award."

Sandi shrugged. "I guess, but I bet she gets the academic award, just like all the others."

Jane approached the podium. "I'm sure some of you never thought you'd see me again. Don't worry, study hall is finally over." A few laughs rose from the students. "This year, the Artistic Achievement goes to a gifted musician and singer, Ms. Kathy Sullivan." The brunette girl quickly accepted the certificate and gave a brief thank you.

Stacy asked, "Wasn't that the girl they always got to sing at the football games?"

Tiffany said, "Yeah, she does have a pretty voice."

Mack walked to the podium with a practiced formality. "The Athletic Leadership award goes to the captain of the track team, Mr. Benjamin Needham." The muscled young man sprinted up the stage and simply said, "Cool, thanks everyone," before sprinting back down.

Sandi said, "I remember going out with him. All he could talk about was running."

Tiffany observed, "He does have cute legs."

Sandi turned her head. "Tiffany, you can't see his legs."

"But…I saw them before."

Daria looked out over the restless students. "Last one folks, and then you can get your diplomas and escape." She opened the envelope and allowed a brief chuckle. Looking up with one of her small smiles, she said, "The faculty has decided to do something a little different this year. They wish to recognize the student who has best shown that Academic Achievement is not only learning, but sharing your knowledge with others. Ms. Quinn Morgendorffer."

Kevin yelled from his seat, "All right!"

Quinn looked at Daria as if she were seeing a giant cockroach. As the silence continued, Daria said, "Come on up, Sis."

Sandi looked at Quinn in shock; Stacy clapped her hands and said, "Oh! What a surprise."

Quinn looked at her with eyes still wide. "Yeah, surprise."

Tiffany gave her a wide, happy smile. "Way to go, Quinn."

Drawn forward like an automaton, Quinn walked up onto the stage. Daria spoke as she approached. "Ms. Morgendorffer has devoted many hours of her time this year tutoring some at-risk seniors in all subjects, assuring their graduation."

Daria handed over the certificate to Quinn and whispered, "I honestly had nothing to do with it, but I'm proud to pass this on to you." Into the microphone, she said, "Congratulations."

Quinn held the certificate in front of her. "I…what a surprise. Something like this doesn't happen without the support of friends…." She smiled a Daria. "…and family. I really want to thank my sister, Daria. She's forgotten more than I'll ever know, and leaves some big boots to fill. Thanks, Sis."

They shook hands and turned to go to their seats. Daria briefly turned with a proud smile at her sister. From the back of the bleachers, a freckled, curly red haired young man lowered a camera with a telephoto lens. "Feisty."

* * *

The ceremony proceeded as expected, with the graduates and families dissolving into a chaotic mob on the field. Jane moved next to Claire again. "Thinking of staying on as principal?"

Claire clasped her hands. "I'm as surprised as you are."

"You're not the same person who had her college roommates squatting in her apartment a couple years ago."

Claire shrugged one shoulder in a good imitation of Jane. "You may have rubbed off."

"You're not trying to blame me for this?"

"Not blame. Thank."

* * *

Kevin approached Quinn, who was surrounded by her family members. "Hey, Quinn."

She turned. "Hi, Kevin."

Jake extended his hand. "Kev, my man. Long time."

He shook the offered hand. "Hey, Mr. M." Nodding toward Helen, he added, "Mrs. M," and finally, "Daria." Releasing Jake's hand, he shook Quinn's hand. "Thanks, Quinn."

Quinn looked at the handshake in surprise, and then blushed lightly. "You're welcome, Kevin."

He suddenly waved his hand at someone in the crowd. "Hi, Mom! Over here!"

Charlene Thompson approached the group and extended her hand to Helen and Jake. "You have a wonderful daughter. I appreciate everything she's done for my son."

Helen shook her hand. "We are proud of her. Charlene, how're you holding up from the divorce?"

"We finalized things a couple weeks ago. I think the worst is over. Now, I have to make a new life."

Quinn asked Kevin, "What're your plans, now?"

He shrugged. "Find a job and help Mom."

Charlene gently pulled on Kevin's arm. "We need to go now. Thanks again for everything."

"Good luck, Kevin." Quinn watched them leave with a smile on her face.

Daria moved up next to her. "You done good, kid."

Quinn turned to her sister. "Daria, I never would have survived without your advice. I lost track of how many times I called or emailed you."

"I'm still impressed."

"Thanks."

"Do you realize that your graduating class is going to remember you as a brain because of that award?"

Quinn's eyes slowly opened wide.

* * *

Two groups of friends independently made their way to Pizza Prince. Quinn, Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany split a cheeseless pizza while Daria, Jane, Jodie and Mack split a Carnivore Special.

Quinn looked past Tiffany and Sandi to watch the other four at their booth. Daria had one of her minimalist smiles, Jane was grinning and gesticulating with her hands, Jodie had her hand over her mouth in amused shock, and Mack grinned as he shook his head in apparent disbelief.

Quinn pointed to the booth. "Guys, we need to make sure we can do that."

Sandi looked over. "Do what?"

Stacy looked over, and back at Quinn. "Quinn's right. We need to be able to come back here a year from now and still be friends."

"Yeah, friends," Tiffany slowly added.

Sandi shrunk down in her seat. _Quinn really is the leader now. But, they want to stay together, and include me…as friends. Mom was wrong. Friends are better than followers. _"Um…yeah. You're right."

Quinn put her hand out over the table. "Why don't we agree to it right now?"

Stacy quickly grabbed Quinn's hand. "I'm in."

Tiffany and Sandi's hands reached out at the same time. Tiffany said, "Agreed," and Sandi added, "Next year, still as friends."

* * *

Thanks to the ever-present denizens of PPMB for comments, Lawndale Stalker, Steven Galloway, Greystar, Decelaraptor, Kristen Bealer, Mike Nassour, Sleepless, Ranger Thorne, Staren, Steven Galloway, The Angst Guy, Mr Orange, ipswichfan, and Isa Yo-Jo.

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

November 2004  
Revised February 2005


	23. Through Lenses Most Bright

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2004.

This is the twenty-third story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Through Lenses Most Bright**

Jane Lane looked in concern at her roommate, Daria Morgendorffer. She was reading a book set flat on the dining table, but her glasses were set to the side. Jane asked, "What's with the glasses removal? I thought you needed them to read." After a pause, finished with, "Are you practicing not wearing contacts again?"

Daria put her glasses on and looked up at Jane. "I found myself doing this a lot lately. I really need to get in for another eye exam. This prescription goes back to when I got those contacts in eleventh grade."

"Okay, but why take them off to read?"

"I'm having a hard time focusing on reading; taking them off helps. I have a suspicion my prescription has changed a lot this time."

"That why you've been extra careful driving?"

"Um…yeah."

Jane walked to the opposite end of the living room and held up three fingers. "Okay kid, how many?"

"I still have one for you here."

"How many?"

Daria squinted for a second. "Um…three."

"You had to work way too hard at that."

Daria toyed with a book page. "I know. I need a new exam. I've been putting it off."

"Why?"

"Um…this sounds kind of silly."

"So?"

"I like these glasses."

"I'm not following you. Just get them updated."

"What frames are available are immensely influenced by fashion. These frames are the replacements I got after breaking that pair in the Tank. I doubt if I can get them anymore. I also hadn't said anything, but there is some minor cracking in these. I can't reuse them."

"So, you get new frames. This is your chance to create a new look."

"I've been lucky to find these or similar frames for most of my life. I'm used to them. I don't think I want a new look."

"Daria, you're allowed to change a little as you grow up. You retired the green jacket, you can retire those glasses."

Daria removed the sturdy, round black frames and studied them. "It feels like abandoning an old friend."

* * *

The exam seemed to go on longer than any Daria had done before. After the glaucoma test, eye dilation, visual exam and other checks, the testing of different corrective lens combinations seemed particularly long. Daria was left sitting for several minutes before the doctor returned.

He said, "Your vision has changed considerably from the prescription you're wearing. The myopia has become more serious, the astigmatism is a little more pronounced. The most important change has been a reduced ability to shift to near focus, or presbyopia. The most common correction for it is bifocal lenses."

Daria stared at the doctor. "Bifocals?"

He was reassuring. "I know that's something you don't expect at your age, but it's not unheard of."

Daria snorted in frustration. "Why not? I got my first glasses before I was three; I can't really remember a time when I didn't wear them. So I get bifocals before the age of twenty."

"Because people your age are sensitive about bifocals, I recommend progressive lenses so that line isn't visible. Alternatively, you could use contacts and reading glasses."

Daria narrowed her eyes. "Contacts are out of the question. Is there a functional difference between the bifocal types?"

The doctor frowned slightly. "Why don't you do a test fit of both types? Compare and decide which one you prefer. The different types require slightly different ways to use and have different effects on your other vision."

"Okay, I'll see how they behave, vision wise."

* * *

The lens contraption was clamped onto Daria's glasses and she held the clipboard in front of her. Moving the clipboard up and down and altering the position of her head, she read the requested test line. Afterward, she set the board down and rubbed her eyes. "Those things were giving me vertigo. Let's try the other." After fitting a new lens holder over her glasses, Daria looked down at the clipboard and made a small head adjustment, reading the line quickly. "This I like; I'll go with these."

The technician made a note. "You're a bit different. Most younger customers, and most women, go for the progressive lenses."

"That shifting focus would have driven me crazy. I like the fixed focus. I can get used to that easier."

"Okay, let's look at some frames. We have the latest designer styles over here."

* * *

An hour later, Daria stomped out of the optometrist's office, her old prescription sunglasses on instead of her usual glasses to protect her dilated eyes from the glare. "The fashion industry has totally taken over glasses. Argh!" She opened the door to her black sedan in frustration and got in. "Two hundred frames and every one of them look like something Quinn would pick out for me." She started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "Bifocals…now I can be the six-eyed geek."

* * *

Jane jumped at hearing the apartment door slam and Daria's loud, explicit comments. She went to her bedroom door and called out, "Daria, isn't that anatomically impossible?"

Daria moved quickly by Jane and toward her room. "Not after the proper application of a bone saw."

Jane watched her friend with increasing concern. "Whoa, what happened?"

Daria turned at the door to her room. "I had my eye exam today."

"Uh…this was a bad thing?"

Daria leaned against the door frame. "Just the results."

"Hey, at least those look like your old glasses."

"They are my old ones."

"I thought the idea of the eye exam was to get new glasses. You know, so you can see again."

"That was the idea. I couldn't find a frame that I liked. They were all too fashionable."

Jane closely examined Daria. "That…isn't all. Out with it, Morgendorffer."

Daria glared at Jane. "You are getting far too good at this."

"No twisty-turny distractions. What else?"

"I need bifocals."

"Bifocals? Aren't you a little young…"

Daria's black glare stopped Jane. "How about…a lot young?"

"Since when have you been concerned? You've always used your glasses to help set you apart."

Daria approached Jane. "It's not so much the appearance, it's the trend."

"I don't get it."

"Jane, I've had glasses for as long as I can remember. Each time I get an exam, my eyesight is worse. Now I need bifocals at an unusually early age, plus stronger corrections for myopia and astigmatism. I can't even see the eye chart anymore…it's just a white blob."

"Um…I'm still not following you."

Daria leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself. "At times like this, I wonder: how long before my eyes completely fail?"

* * *

Dr. Killarny walked past Daria working at her desk and noticed the enlarged text on the monitor. "I thought you were going for some new glasses yesterday."

Daria looked up at her boss. "I got the exam…I'm still looking for a pair of glasses I like."

"Hmm. Every time I've seen one of those shops, they don't seem to have a lack of variety."

"Yeah, but it's a case of 200 channels and nothing on."

"Oh…what about contacts then?"

Daria wearily said, "I tried them in high school. It didn't work out."

"Ah."

"Why do people keep asking me about contacts?"

"It seems logical, not having to deal with the glasses."

"Have you ever seen what someone has to do to put contacts in?"

"No."

"Picture this: pull your lower eyelid down as far as you can. Now, stick the forefinger of your other hand into your eye. Repeat."

Dr. Killarny frowned a little. "I never thought of it like that."

"Some get used to it and prefer it; I don't. Plus, my eyes are sensitive and get irritated easily."

"Well…good luck on finding something."

"Thanks."

* * *

In another optician shop, Daria pointed to her glasses. "See what I've got now? Something simple and utilitarian; that's what I'm after."

The saleslady spread her hands. "Glasses are a major investment and a powerful personal statement. People want glasses that say certain things."

"I understand. I want mine to say they're on my face to correct my lousy vision."

"Miss. That's not the kind of message our product sends."

"But, they do seem to be sending the message that you don't want my business." Daria got up and stalked out of the store.

* * *

"As long as I can still see your eyes, I'm not that concerned about what kind of glasses you have on," Michael Fulton told Daria over the phone.

She smiled warmly. "Sweet talker."

"Guilty…but it's still the truth."

In a more serious tone, Daria said, "Really though, I'm concerned. For a couple of years, I've needed help to get around in unfamiliar places if I don't have my glasses on. My eyes keep getting worse. I've known this for years, and I know I'm not actually going blind, but it's still hard to live with at times."

"I have some idea of what you're worried about. My uncorrected vision isn't great. I can just get the 'E' on an eye chart."

"I haven't been able to do that since middle school."

"Damn. I'm…um…have you considered surgery? It probably won't allow you to get rid of the glasses, but should reduce the prescription and gain some more time."

"Maybe some day I could afford it. I might be flush for a college student, but I don't have that kind of disposable income. And, I'd still need the bifocals."

"I'm sorry, best I could do. This is a little out of my area of expertise."

Daria thought for a moment. "Don't be. Expertise…I need more hard information…the doctor examined my eyes yesterday. I'll go over after class tomorrow and pick his brain."

"That sounds like a reasonable plan."

"I hope."

"If nothing else, you can put a harness around my neck and I'll play seeing-eye dog."

Daria gave a gentle laugh. "Thanks. That helped. Though Jane would enjoy the imagery too much."

Michael chuckled in return. "She would."

"But now, I still need to find some new frames I can tolerate."

"Sorry about your old ones. Hey, what about the frames from your sunglasses?"

"Those are already recycled. That was the frame I broke as a sophomore on that failed road trip to Alternapalooza. The nose bridge is pinned. I didn't completely trust the frames as my primaries, but they worked fine for my sunglasses."

"Shoot. Then I guess you're back on the hunt, and simple functionality is almost impossible to locate."

"You're the one with aviator glasses."

"But, the pair I got was made from a high-strength alloy. I was awfully hard on my glasses growing up. I'll sacrifice a little to fashion if it means something will stay together longer."

"I don't think I've ever heard things put in quite that way before."

* * *

"Genetically engineered giant grasshoppers for Thanksgiving. Plenty of drumsticks to go around. Next, on _Sick, Sad World_."

"And no feathers to pluck," Daria replied to the television. Hearing the front door open, she turned to see Jane. "Running a bit late?"

"Ugh. Traffic sucked. I hope they get that 'Big Dig' done on time."

"Don't hold your breath."

Jane closed the door and moved toward Daria. "Still no luck with glasses?"

"No. Don't forget, even when I find something, my days of one hour glasses are gone. It'll probably be a couple days before I can pick up a new pair."

"Bummer." Jane sat down in another of the living room chairs. "What about…the other thing you were worried about?"

"I decided I need more information. I'm going to the eye doctor again tomorrow to get some. He takes walk-ins; I'll just have to wait a bit."

Jane held up a finger and tapped her chin. "Hey, nice coincidence. Could you take a passenger?"

"Pardon?"

"One of the kids I work with needs an eye exam. Her mother has a voucher for that and glasses from one of the charities, but doesn't have a car."

"Not to be cold, but why can't they take a bus or train? Or for that matter, doesn't the hospital have some kind of transport system?"

"The little girl needs to be in a special seat because of her neck brace."

"What about you?"

"Her mother's only free when I'm at work. You're clear once you get out of class. She's a sweet kid."

"You know cute doesn't work on me." Daria let out a sigh. "But, I'm not an ogre. I'll give her a ride."

"Thanks."

"How did you get rooked into finding transport for her?"

"I didn't. I overhead Mrs. Davis telling one of the nurses that she didn't have a ride. You mentioned going to the doctor…two plus two…simple math. Even I could figure that one out."

* * *

Daria parked at the passenger loading lane in front of the Boston Children's Hospital Long-Term Care Residence. She waved to the attendant rising to greet her. "I'm here to pick somebody up."

The attendant shrugged and sat back down. Daria went inside and asked for the Arts and Crafts room. Following the directions, she entered and stopped in surprise. About a dozen children were scattered around. Some were standing or sitting, others were in wheelchairs, and one was confined to a bed. All were making noise and drawing, painting or otherwise creating. There were children stripped of hair by chemotherapy or covered in bandages. Some faced life-threatening illnesses, others life-long problems. Despite their burdens, all appeared to be having a good time.

Jane was among the group, grinning and encouraging each in turn. Jane waved at Daria and then spoke to a young woman in her mid-twenties with pale brown hair.

After a word or two with Jane, the woman approached Daria. "Ms. Morgendorffer?"

Daria nodded. "I'm Daria."

"Hi, I'm Bea Davis. Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome."

Daria looked at the thin, six-year old girl who came up beside Bea. A complex support frame was anchored along her shoulders that kept her head and neck rigidly in place. Her hair was trimmed short to stay clear of the brace. Daria squatted down and said, "Hi."

The girl leaned back to look up and smiled. "I'm Olivia. Miss Jane said you were going to take me to the eye doctor?"

"Yes."

"Do you like your glasses?"

"Yes, I like them very much. I can't see very well at all without them."

"I'm a little scared."

"Why?"

"Doctors scare me."

Daria looked at the frame again. "I can see that." Daria hesitated. "Um…but this doctor won't give you any shots."

Olivia sighed in relief.

"He will put some drops in your eyes that will sting a little. So he can look inside them."

She looked worried again. "Oh."

"I've had it done to me; it isn't that bad."

"I want to see things better."

"You will."

"Why are you going to the doctor? You have glasses."

"I'm going…because there are some things I'm afraid of."

"But, you said don't be scared of him."

"I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid of what might happen to me."

"Me, too." Olivia touched the brace around her head. "The doctors said if I hurt my neck again, I won't be able to walk."

* * *

Olivia stood next to Daria's car as two nurses attached a large, rear-facing child seat into the back. She scowled. "I hate that. I'm a big girl now."

Bea patted the girl's arm. "It's only until you heal, then you can sit like the other big girls."

"I still hate it."

Despite the frown, she cooperated as Bea strapped her securely into the seat. Looking at Daria, she said, "I'll sit in back to keep Olivia company."

Daria opened the door for her and then slipped into the driver's seat. She could see the corner of Olivia's seat in the rear-view mirror. _I know I joked with Jane about driving more carefully, but I am glad my vision is still safe to drive with. I don't know how she did it, but I smell Jane's machinations to get me to feel good about myself again._

* * *

Daria sat with the ophthalmologist while Bea sat with Olivia waiting for the drops to dilate her eyes. The doctor said, "I understand your concern, Miss Morgendorffer. I'm sorry I didn't address it when you were here the other day."

"I admit it may seem a bit irrational."

"Not really. I've seen this frustration before. Most often, a patient's vision will stabilize by your age. But, it's difficult to predict how vision like yours will change over time. That uncertainty can cause anxiety about how far things may go, especially in someone with your level of visual acuity. I expect the rate of change should slow, now that you're an adult. However, I wouldn't be surprised if it continues for a few years."

Daria fidgeted her hands. "Um…what about surgery?"

"We won't be able to consider that until your vision stabilizes. It will give you a lower strength prescription, but probably not eliminate the need for correction."

"Therefore, I'm back to wait and see what happens."

"If we could accurately predict vision changes in cases like yours, it would make my work a lot easier. I'm sorry."

"I'm not blaming you, just being frustrated."

"I'm going to recommend you get exams on a yearly basis to keep close tabs on your vision. That should give us a better idea within a year or two."

"In the end, the only thing I can be sure of is that it's not a sure thing that my eyes going completely to hell."

"That's it." The doctor smiled. "But, I'll put my money on them not going that far."

"Thanks, Doc."

"Take care. I better get back in for Olivia."

* * *

Olivia exited the exam room, blinking. Even though the room lights were not bright, she was still sensitive. With visible excitement, she began to look through the children's frames. The budget allowed by the voucher limited the selection Olivia had to choose from, and she rapidly decided on a pair of mid-sized, tan colored oval frames.

While Olivia was getting measured for the glasses, her mother turned to Daria. "Will it be too much of an imposition to wait for them? The gentleman said it would only take about forty-five minutes."

Daria shrugged. "I don't see a problem. I can kill time by trying to look at frames for myself again." She quietly said to herself as she went to a display, "Nothing like beating a dead horse."

* * *

Daria took the small oblong-shaped frames off. "That would drive me nuts. I like having the wider range of corrected vision. I still can't figure out how CC can stand this kind." She walked to a rack with larger frames. Olivia wandered over to watch Daria as she examined and tried different frames. _Dammit, I wish my old style frames were still around_. She tried a pair of large, squared frames. When she looked in the mirror, she imagined her hair pulled back. "Ack!" She removed them quickly and tried another pair.

"Seventeen years of almost the same frame. Come to think of it, it would be safe to say I was in a rut." Daria looked some more and rejected another set of frames. "But none of these are…" Daria looked at herself in mild surprise and sighed. "…what I'm looking for. Admit it Morgendorffer. You are concerned about what they look like. You specifically want something unconventional instead of fashionable."

Finally, Daria located a pair of frames with round lenses only slightly smaller than her current ones. The upper half was a metallic black, with a rimless lower half. Overall, they were a bit lighter than her current pair. "I didn't see these last time I was here." She tried them on and found that the fit was very close to what she was familiar with. Looking in the mirror, they were right.

Olivia said, "I like those."

Daria looked down. "Sounds like a good second opinion." Daria looked back at herself in the mirror. The dark upper frame provided the visual barrier she still wanted between herself and the world. Daria thought of a conversation with Jane about contact lenses and glasses.

"_I know my glasses set me apart…I can see things that other people can't."_

However, the rimless lower half allowed a soft blending between glasses and face. She could notice where the lens edge was, but found she liked not having the dark border of a glasses frame there.

_But these allow me to be a little less apart…and maybe allow me to see things that I otherwise can't._

Daria smiled to remember Jane's remark to the glasses explanation:

"_Why settle for vanity when you can have pure egotism."_

Daria took the demo off and put her old glasses on. She handed the demo to the technician and said, "I'll take these." He took the frames and recorded the model information, and quickly brought up her prescription on the computer. With practiced motions, he had Daria's eyes and face measured for a proper fit. He entered the data and said at the same time, "With the strength of your prescription, I'd suggest the polycarbonate lenses to save weight and the scratch resistance to protect them."

"Sounds good."

"UV protection?"

"With how much is already going wrong with my eyes? Of course."

"Do you want the clip-on polarized sunglasses?"

"Save on buying a second pair, yes."

"Okay, they should be ready for you in two days."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Olivia carefully slid her new glasses into place and a look of wonder spread quickly. "Wow."

Daria faintly smiled. "I get the same reaction each time I get new ones."

Olivia turned to Daria. "How do they look?"

"Perfect."

* * *

When Daria got home, the rattle of metal in the kitchen told her Jane was attempting to cook dinner again. "I don't care how artistic it looks; don't laminate a batch of beans to the bottom of a pot again."

Jane looked around the kitchen door-frame and smirked. "How was the passenger?"

Daria slightly rocked her head. "Okay. Olivia found some new glasses."

"And your mission?"

"Basically what I expected. My eyesight will probably continue downhill, but slower. I will probably have to wait until my thirties before I can get surgery. Oh, yeah. They also aren't expected to fall out."

"Dammit. I had plans for them."

Daria reached the kitchen door to find Jane pulling a baking pan from the oven and setting it on the stovetop next to a covered pot emitting steam. "By the way, you're just in time to eat, if you can be bothered to get something out to eat on."

"I can do that." As Daria pulled down two plates, she said, "Am I going to regret asking what's for dinner?"

Jane pulled foil from the baking dish. "It looks like the chicken came through adequately." She pulled the lid off the pot. "And, I pulled off the rice and veggies this time."

"Thank goodness. Your last attempt ended up more like rice paste. I still haven't figured out how you managed to get the rice to break down that much."

Jane pointed a spoon at Daria. "Hey, don't diss the cook."

Daria put utensils on the plates and carried them out to the table. "By the way, I finally found some frames today. I'll pick them up day after tomorrow."

Jane followed and set the baking dish down on an oven mitt. She said as she went back into the kitchen, "So, what's the verdict? Something achingly fashionable to make Quinn swoon?"

Daria finished putting out the plates and silverware. "Round like these…but…a bit more trendy. The lower halves are rimless." Daria looked directly at Jane. "Olivia approved."

Jane came back and placed the pot on a folded towel. "I thought you two would get along."

"I don't know how you did it, but you set that up."

"I didn't set it up, but I couldn't resist the chance to help my friend."

"You are damnably incorrigible."

"And proud of it." Sticking serving spoons in each dish, she sat and said, "Let's eat."

* * *

On the appointed day, Daria slid the new glasses on and enjoyed the clarity she always noticed with new glasses. She stood and carefully walked around, getting used to the slight disorientation of changed sight.

Satisfied it fit; she carried her paperwork to the cashier and handed over her credit card. A few moments later, the cashier handed her the receipt and Daria frowned at the blurred image before remembering to slightly rock her head back to look through the lower lens. As she completed signing, she thought of her last birthday and Aunt Amy's visit. Amy used the same motion to read Jane's signature on a painting.

_So, you're gifted, too._

Daria neatly folded her copy and put it in her wallet. Heading out the door, she stopped to admire the trees across the street. "Why do I keep forgetting what it is like to see leaves, except the day I get new glasses?"

Shaking her head, she got into her car and went home.

* * *

Daria sat in a chair with a book above her lap, enjoying being able to read comfortably again. The telephone ringing brought a slim frown of irritation, but she got up and answered it anyway. "Hello."

Amy Barksdale responded, "My favorite niece. I just got your message. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I picked up my new glasses today."

"Continuing to avoid contacts?"

"Those are still a bad idea. However, I found myself imitating you in another way today."

"Oh? How so?"

"Tilting my head back to look through bifocals."

Amy smiled. "Overachiever, you beat my record."

"I wondered. When?"

"Twenty-five."

"I never noticed."

"I'll admit to vanity. I've always had the progressive lenses, or wore my contacts. It just seemed…like it shouldn't happen to me so soon."

"It helps to know I'm not the only one to get these early."

"We both take after Dad in the eyesight department. He had bifocals for as long as I could remember and I had the impression he had them for a while before I showed up."

"Do I need to start looking for gray hairs?"

Amy grinned. "That, I wouldn't worry about. Unless you got something from Jake, your hair seems to be more like mine and Dad's. Helen and Quinn have that bright red hair like Mom. She was dyeing hers by forty. I bet Helen does, too."

Daria lightly chuckled. "Quinn is going to die to find her first gray hair. Thanks, Amy. But, I wonder if there are any more surprises waiting for me in the Morgendorffer and Barksdale genetic codes?"

"Without a doubt, yes."

"That's encouraging."

Playfully, Amy said, "It was meant to be. I want a picture of the new glasses, since you never did send one of you wearing contacts."

"Jane has a digital camera. I'll send you something, this time."

"I'll be expecting it."

* * *

Half an hour later, Daria was at her computer sending copies of the self-portrait to Amy and Michael. "That's out of the way." Reacting to a thought, Daria opened a drawer and put a sheet of photo paper in her printer and printed a copy. She put it in an envelope along with a message.

_**Olivia,**_

_**I thought it was only fair for you to see me in my new glasses.**_

_**Daria**_

"I'll ask Jane to drop with off for me."

* * *

A couple days later, Daria opened a letter from Bea while Jane watched.

_**Daria,**_

_**Olivia appreciated the photo and thinks you're pretty in your new glasses. She wanted you to have a photo of her new brace.**_

_**Bea**_

The photo showed the grinning girl in a soft neck brace, all sign of the metal frame gone. Daria said to the image, "I guess we both have a little less to fear now."

* * *

Quotes from _Through a Lens Darkly_ by Glenn Eichler.

Thanks to the residents of PPMB for commentary, Lawndale Stalker, Mike Nassour, The Angst Guy, Kristen Bealer, Staren, Ranchoth, Ranger Thorne, and Isa Yo-Jo.

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

November 2004  
Revised, February 2005


	24. Silver Lining

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-fourth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Silver Lining**

Daria Morgendorffer sat in her dining room, speaking on the phone. "Karen, my parent's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary is going to be the scariest family get-together in our history."

Daria's old Raft roommate, Karen Myerson, smirked from her bedroom in southern Georgia. "It can't be that bad. These people must have been together before."

"Not since Mom and Dad got married."

"You've got your grandmothers, your mom's two sisters and your dad's brother showing up. That's only five people. My folks get invaded by twenty or more on a regular basis for the holidays."

"Karen, your family is filled with saints compared to mine."

"Okay, your parents are a little high-strung, but not too bad. That one aunt I met was pretty cool."

"Even Amy can regress to childhood when exposed to her sisters. I don't even want to think about what exposure to her mother will do."

"Be brave, young Morgendorffer. It's only one weekend, and then you get to see Michael the next."

"Why can't I just time travel to that weekend instead?"

"Because that would be too damn convenient. Just like I can't travel to the one after that, when Derek is finished with his training at Ft. Benning and will come visit."

"Have you been able to see him?"

"No. He wasn't able to get any leave, so we have to wait."

"That's starting to sound like the story of our lives."

"Hey, at least we have somebody to wait for."

* * *

"Six hours. What a way to spend a Saturday morning. Just long enough of a drive to be a real drag, but not long enough to justify a plane ticket," Daria muttered as she braced her hands against the small of her back and stretched. "Better." She pulled a black travel bag out of the passenger seat of her black sedan. At the front door of her parents' home, she said, "Now I know how King Harry felt," and rang the doorbell. "Once more unto the breach."

Daria stepped back in surprise as Quinn snatched the door open and said, "Thank God you're here!" She grabbed Daria's hand to pull her inside and up the stairs.

"Quinn…?"

"Shh."

They made directly for Quinn's room. Only after the door was closed did she release Daria's hand.

"Okay, Quinn. What's wrong?"

"Mom and Dad are going insane!"

"So? What else is new?"

Quinn's eyes were wide in panic. "Mom got clothes made for them to match their wedding photo!"

Daria looked up slightly and gave a small smile. "That's kind of sweet."

"Daria…the Seventies?"

"Quinn, that's when they got married. It's not like they want you to wear the stuff."

Quinn backed up with her hands up in front of her. "Don't even joke like that."

Daria sighed. "This is their weekend, remember? Even if we find their taste in clothes questionable…let them be."

Quinn sighed. "Okay."

Daria smirked. "They could have gotten married in the sixties…"

Quinn's face became somber and calm. "I would have to kill them."

Daria rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Anybody here yet?"

"No. Hey, I like your new glasses. The rimless lowers set your cheeks off well."

"Oh, thanks."

"You still should have gotten contacts." Quinn winked at Daria. "Michael can see your eyes better that way."

"He can see my eyes fine, as it is." Daria rocked her head back to show the lower lenses. "With these things, I would still need reading glasses, so why go to the bother of putting in contacts when I still have to wear glasses to read?"

"Spoil another good idea, why don't you."

"I try. How're things going with you, otherwise?"

"I'm working full-time again at Cashman's. That honor society you got me into has met twice."

"I told you, I had nothing to do with that. You are solely responsible."

"Sure. Your roommate is a friend of the principal."

"I'll tell you what; I'll pull some of said roommate's strings to find out who was responsible."

"Okay. But I still don't entirely trust you. Did Mom fill you in on the sleeping arrangements?"

Daria ticked off on her fingers, "Amy and me in my old room, you and Rita get to share, both grandmothers in the guest room, and Uncle Bruce on the sofa."

"I hate using that sleeping pad."

"That's why I picked up an air mattress on the way here this morning."

"I'm jealous."

"Good. I suppose we should get downstairs to greet our extended family as they arrive."

* * *

Amy Barksdale put her suitcase on the floor and greeted her favorite niece, who had opened the door. "Daria, it's so good to see you. The new glasses look cool." She gave her a friendly hug and said, "I promise, nobody followed me this time."

Daria chuckled to remember the incident on her last birthday. "Let's hope things go better than the last time the Battling Barksdale Sisters got together."

"Optimist."

"I resent that."

Amy looked past to the others in the living room. "Jake, Quinn. Hi. Oh, Bruce, it's been very a long time."

Bruce Morgendorffer was a shorter, broader version of Jake, with a peppering of grey in his hair. He crossed the room and gave Amy a light embrace. "Hi, Amy. I just got here, too. Last time, you were between grad schools."

"That long?"

"It sure has. Doctor, right?"

She nodded. "Please, no formalities. Master Sergeant?"

He formally saluted her. "Yes, Ma'am."

"You can knock that off, too. You're out of the Army."

"That, I am. Hey Jake, remember back in sixty-six when I told Dad about my enlistment?

* * *

Nathan "Mad Dog" Morgendorffer sat on the front porch of his home to catch the fleeting Virginia summer breeze. He growled at his eighteen-year old son. "Army? What's wrong with the Marines?"

Bruce stood his ground. "Nothing's wrong with them. But, the Army offers the new airmobile forces I'm interested in."

"Bouncing around in them fancy helicopters? Well, I guess it gets you into the fightin' quicker."

"It does, and allows troops to be more precisely placed or removed."

"Rather you were a Marine, but I'm proud you're off to do your duty." Mad Dog turned to glare at the sixteen-year old Jake. "Now if we can just get this worthless piece of crap to do his."

Sixteen-year old Jake stepped back and stammered, "D…dad. I was planning to go to college."

"What the hell do you want to do something like that for? You need to get your butt out there and fight the stinkin' commies."

"B…b…but I can do that after college. Then I can be an officer. That's what they're asking us to do at Buxton Ridge."

"Officer? Bah. Bane of a true non-com's existence. But, you can't do without 'em." He glared at Jake. "Okay, boy. We need good officers instead of those jerks I had to work under. If the school says it's a good idea, fine. You can go."

* * *

Jake nodded, "Yeah, I remember. At least, he agreed to let me go to college that day. Though, he only paid for my first term. Boy was he angry when I ditched ROTC during Add/Drop." Jake's eyes went a little distant. "Yeah, that was the first time I really defied him." He slightly shook his fist. "The first time."

Daria looked at him in surprise. "Only the first term? How did you pay for the rest?"

"I helped a little bit," Bruce said. "By then, I was in 'Nam and knew I didn't want my little brother there. The Old Man always respected me more for going, but I respect Jake more standing up to him over that."

Jake nodded to his brother. "I worked odd jobs here and there. The money your mother got from her parents helped, too. After the first year, living in the group house was a lot cheaper. We scraped by. I remember my first day on campus."

* * *

Jake stepped off the bus and looked through the gate of Middleton College. "Well, it's not UCLA, but Dad said he'd only cover in-state tuition. Doesn't matter; it's not enlistment."

The open yard was scattered with young people walking on their business. Cars were pulled up next to the dorms and families were helping new students unload belongings. The bus driver opened the luggage compartment and tossed Jake's duffle bag on the ground. "Dere ya' go, kid." Moments later, the bus was back on its way. Jake picked up his bag and began to walk forward. He pulled the folded campus map from his pocket and oriented himself quickly. "That way."

Jake saw the counter-culture had firmly established itself among the students. He felt out of place with his crew cut, pressed pants, white shirt and red tie. Students read, threw frisbees, and some openly drank on the open lawns. A multitude of voices called from all directions. Music he was barely familiar with played. He was entering a world far, far removed from the strict discipline of Buxton Ridge Military Academy.

A pretty girl with blond hair and very pleasing curves rushed past him. "Very different." He smiled and stood straighter. As he approached his dorm, his shoulders slumped. "Who am I kidding? Someone like that will never be interested in me."

* * *

Amy said, "We know that wasn't true," and nodded toward Helen, who was entering from the kitchen with a platter of drinks.

Jake gave her a goofy grin. "I still can't believe my luck."

Amy quietly said, "Or Helen's."

Helen set the carefully balanced tray on the coffee table and whispered through clenched teeth, "You're one to talk." She walked over to embrace her sister. "How are you?"

"Looks like I survived another academic year intact."

"Amy, you're as bad as I am," Helen said. "I meant, how is life outside of your work?"

Amy shrugged. "About the same. A few dates here and there. Let's be honest, at my age, the pickings are getting mighty slim."

"I'm sorry."

"The single ones seem to be fatally flawed, wrecked by divorce, or gay. No offense, Bruce."

Bruce said, "None taken."

She asked him, "How's your daughter…um…Alexandra, doing?"

Bruce smiled. "Pretty good. She and her husband moved to Arizona last year. She's expecting her second in October."

She nudged and asked, "How does it feel to be a grandfather?"

Bruce shook his head. "Very strange. But my ex, Tina, and her new husband seem to be reveling in it."

He looked at the two sisters. "I've got a question. It always seems like all three of you sisters are on edge when you get together. Is it me, or is something else going on?"

Helen shook her head. "No, it's not you. Growing up Barksdale was no picnic. Even something that should have been a happy occasion could turn into a battle."

* * *

Almost eighteen, Helen carefully parked her Dodge Dart in the driveway next to her sister Rita's MG and shut off the ignition. Her father had obtained both cars as repossessions. She frowned in frustration. "It doesn't seem fair. You'd think a bank owner could afford new cars for us."

She looked over at her silver salutatorian sash, bright against a black graduation gown. "Second place. By less than half a tenth of a lousy GPA point." The young woman's red hair flowed over a white peasant blouse when she reached back and removed the gown from the hook. "But, I did it on my own. I can be proud of that."

Inside the elegantly decorated house, she called out, "I'm home."

Simon Barksdale entered the living room from the back of the house. He was a small, slender man with close-cropped, red/brown hair and gold-rimmed bifocals. "Good afternoon. Ready for the big night?"

Helen held up the sash prominently. "Hi, Daddy. Ready as ever. At least Rita won't be able to butt in on this."

"You know she doesn't mean any harm, she just gets carried away."

Helen rolled her eyes. "Right, Daddy. And then, Mom just backs her up and that's the end of it."

A tall woman with bright red hair stormed into the room. Tess Barksdale snapped, "At least Rita knows how to show some respect for her parents."

Helen turned. "Respect? She's playing you like a cheap fiddle."

"You insolent little witch! You're grounded."

Helen angrily tossed her hair to the side as she headed for the stairs. "You'd better call the school to let them know I won't be giving my speech."

"Speech? Dammit! That is tonight. You're not grounded until tomorrow."

Helen yelled down the stairs, "Wow, thanks."

Nine-year old Amy sat at the top of the stairs. "Oooh. Good one. Get Mom wound up good and tight before tonight."

"Out of my way, Amy."

Amy scrambled to avoid the rapidly advancing big sister. "Hey, I'll let you know when the coast is clear."

"Thanks," Helen grumbled as she closed the door to her room.

* * *

Amy put an arm around Helen's shoulders. "Just be glad you weren't home alone with Mother for seven years like I was."

Helen rolled her eyes.

Amy continued, "But, I should talk. I left for grad school and disappeared for twelve, until Erin's wedding."

Helen looked at Amy. "I probably should have tried to stop by more often. But once I got to college, it was a completely different world, and I didn't want to go back."

* * *

Helen trudged her two suitcases down the hall toward her assigned dorm room at Middleton College. "It's not Bromwell or Crestmore, but it's college, even if I'm still in Virginia."

A brunette girl in blue and green tie-dye hugged Helen as soon as she opened the door. In a soft voice, she said, "Hey, I'm Willow. You must be my roommate."

Helen was temporarily dumbfounded by her new roommate's friendliness. "Hi, I'm Helen."

"That is such a pretty name. Let me help you."

Willow picked up one of Helen's suitcases and carried it to the center of the room. "I waited for you to get here. Do you care which bed you get?"

"You didn't already choose a bed?"

"It wouldn't be fair without you here."

Helen stood still, not knowing what to say.

Simon entered the room. "Good morning, Miss."

"Hi."

Simon set two more suitcases on the floor and hugged Helen. "Looks like you have a nice roommate. I promised your mother I'd be home by dinner, so I better get going."

Helen found she was more emotional than anticipated. "Bye, Daddy. I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you. Try to stay out of trouble."

Helen smiled past the tear she felt. "I'll try."

Simon looked around. "I think you are going to have a fascinating time."

* * *

"Hi, Grandma Ruth," Quinn greeted her paternal grandmother at the door.

"Quinn, you're looking prettier every time I see you."

"Thanks, Grandma."

Ruth stepped in more and smiled. "Jakey, Bruce. How wonderful."

Both men quickly embraced the diminutive woman and said, "Mom."

After returning the gesture, she looked past. "Helen, you look nice. And I remember you; you're Helen's baby sister, Amy."

Amy frowned and whispered to Daria, "You don't know how much I hate the term, 'baby sister', at my age."

Daria whispered back, "I'll have to remember to use that on Quinn in twenty years or so." In a normal voice, she said, "Hi, Grandma."

"Daria, you look nice, too."

Ruth looked around the living room. "I see you still haven't redecorated the place. But, someone with your busy schedule probably doesn't have the time."

Helen started to speak, held up hands and shook her head in frustration. She muttered under her breath, "I'm not going to let them get to me. This is our weekend."

* * *

A few minutes later, Helen stood at the door and steeled her nerves. "You can do this." She opened the door and saw her sister, Rita, and her mother, Tess. "Mother, Rita, I'm so glad you made it."

Rita hugged her. "Helen. Happy anniversary," she said, and proceeded past to make way for her mother.

Tess's red locks were slightly out of place on someone in her seventies. She very formally embraced her oldest daughter and only said, "Helen," before going inside.

Helen turned and stared daggers at both women's backs.

Various greetings were exchanged between those already present and the new arrivals. Tess stopped before a family portrait of the Morgendorffers on the living room wall. "Helen, this is beautiful. I'm glad to see you're finally spending money to get things like this done professionally."

Daria lightly snickered and leaned against Quinn.

Tess abruptly turned toward Daria. "What is so funny about that, young lady?"

"Mom didn't spend any money on that. It was a gift."

"A gift?" Tess turned toward Helen. "Then your clients are starting to show some sign of belonging to proper society."

Quinn giggled.

Tess turned back. "You, too? Your manners have become abominable."

"Daria's friend gave it to us."

"Daria? I know you dated that Sloane boy last year, what other friends like him have you cultivated?"

Daria gave a Jane-like one shoulder shrug. "The artist is my roommate. I'll be happy to pass on that you thought it was a professional job."

Tess looked back at the painting in a huff. "At least you look like a young lady in this, for a change."

Helen stopped next to her mother. "Both of them are lovely. Jane did a wonderful job."

Tess looked around the living room. "Still, this looks so much better than that wretched rat-hole you two lived in during college. I was so happy to see you leave that place."

Helen slightly smiled. "It was a learning experience, but we were also glad. It was time to move on."

* * *

Helen and Jake stood facing Coyote and Willow. Behind was the rustic group house they had lived in since the end of their freshman year of college. Two weeks after graduation, their few belongings were packed in the trusty Dart and they were ready to leave.

Coyote said, "Man, are you really sure you want to do this?"

Willow held Helen's hands. "We've managed to make a new world here. Why would you want to go out to the madness?"

She smiled at the warmth of her friend's hands. "We may have made a new world here, but we aren't changing the one out there. I know that's where my calling is."

Jake hugged Helen. "We're going out to make a difference."

Coyote and Willow hugged both of them. Coyote said, "Be careful, man. The corporate running dogs can suck you in before you know it."

Helen said, "We know to keep true to our goals."

Jake spread his hands wide. "Sure do."

Quietly, Willow said, "Farewell."

Helen brushed a tear away. "Thank you. Goodbye. Both of you have been the most wonderful friends."

Helen and Jake got into the car and slowly pulled away from the commune. Helen looked forward as she drove. "I'm never kneading bread again."

Jake looked disappointed. "But, I like your pumpkin seed loaf."

"Jake, if we're going to save society, I can't spend more time in the kitchen than my mother did."

"Aw, you're right."

"We need to find some decent jobs. I already applied with the state social services agency. You should be able to find something, too. Put your business degree to work. You said we should work from inside the system, here's our chance."

"Gotcha." After a few minutes, Jake said, "You know; it'll be kind of nice having more than three sets of clothes."

"Having hot water for regular baths will be wonderful."

"Maybe, we can sell out a little."

"I don't see where it will hurt. The new place will be ours, after all."

"Having our own place has another advantage; a lot more privacy."

Helen smiled, "Oh, Jake!"

* * *

Quinn squeezed her hands over her ears. "Eww, Mo-om! That is way too much information."

Daria smirked at her sister's discomfort.

Helen picked up a tray from the coffee table and said, "I'll get some more drinks, back in a moment." Jake followed her out into the kitchen, with a grin on his face.

Ruth said to Daria, "I understand you have a nice young man in your life."

Tess leaned forward. "Well, Daria. Tell us about this gentleman."

Quinn excitedly started talking. "He's almost cute, reasonably tall, green eyes that Daria has a weakness for…"

Daria looked down at her feet.

"…and he has an impeccable hair color."

Daria eyed Quinn. "It's the same color as yours."

"Like I said." Quinn gave Daria a wicked grin, "And, she has him so wrapped around her finger."

Daria scowled. "Quinn."

"Daria. You do. I mean, the guy drove all the way here from Detroit just to apologize to you."

Ruth smiled. "Now what did he need to apologize for?"

Daria blushed and rubbed her hands together. "We…um, had a big disagreement. We broke up and got back together."

Ruth asked, "Does he go to school with you?"

"Yes, he's a history major, wanting to go into archeology in grad school."

"Did you meet him in class?"

"Yeah."

"Kind of like Jakey. He met your mother in a college class. Did you know that?"

Slightly blushing, Daria nodded. "They've told me about it."

"Any talk of marriage?"

Daria paled and sputtered, "I…we…um…" She gulped and started again. "We decided not to discuss anything like that during the foreseeable future."

Disappointed, Ruth said, "Oh, that's too bad."

Tess said, "He'll probably take forever to ask. Let's face it. Jake took six years to ask Helen to marry him. Even then, if Helen hadn't nudged him during Rita's first wedding, I doubt if he would've at all."

With a wry grin, Rita said, "It wasn't Helen."

* * *

Helen looked out over the kaleidoscopic dance floor with a pang of jealousy. Mostly for the gross amount of money spent, but secretly, for the reason of the celebration. She said to Jake, "Rita sure knows how to go overboard. This must have cost Mom and Dad a fortune."

Just beginning to show her pregnancy, Rita came up to them in a stunning gown, set with hundreds of pearls. "Helen, Jake. I hope you're having a good time."

Jake grinned. "We're having a great time. These snacks are delicious."

"Thanks, we had them custom catered."

Helen weakly smiled. "That's nice. I'm sure Mom had a wonderful time planning all this."

"Oh, you know how she gets. I don't think I've ever seen her have so much fun."

Helen sighed. "I bet she did."

Fifteen-year old Amy sneaked up next to Jake and put a hand on his elbow. "I bet Helen would love something like this."

Jake jumped. "Huh?"

"A wedding."

"I don't think so. We've already given in to society's norms enough as it is. What does a piece of paper mean?"

"If that wasn't a concern, would you ask her?"

"I would've years ago."

"Hypothetically, what would you say to her?"

Jake closed his eyes in concentration. "Hmm."

Amy began small movements to rotate Jake to face Helen. Rita saw Amy's maneuver and suppressed a smirk. She began a slight shift to turn Helen toward Jake.

Amy stepped behind Helen and released Jake's arm just as he said, "Helen, you truly are the love of my life. Will you marry me?"

Helen started at the question. Jake's eyes were still closed, but he held a dreamlike smile that Helen recognized as a sign of him imagining something he wished he could do, but couldn't quite bring himself to do. She also noticed Rita's widening grin and Amy's satisfied smirk. She whispered, "Only one thing to do now," put her hands behind Jake's neck, said, "Yes," and kissed him.

* * *

Quinn looked at Amy and Rita. "You tricked them?"

Amy said, "More like, encouraged them in the right direction."

Rita said, "Sometimes, people need a little push to do what's right."

Quinn looked at Daria. "Tell me about it."

Daria grumbled something inaudible.

Mischievously, Rita looked toward the kitchen and said loud enough to be heard in that room, "I don't think Helen quite got over the fact she owes her marriage to the two of us."

Ruth said, "Six months later, they were married. It was a pretty, but simple affair. But, not without some problems."

* * *

Jake was speechless to see his mother exit the car, his father nowhere to be seen. He walked over and asked, "Where's Dad?"

Ruth looked at her son. "He couldn't make it today. The dog needs to have its nails trimmed."

Jake looked like he had been punched in the stomach. "Fine." He turned and walked back to Helen.

Bruce and his wife, Tina, escorted Ruth toward the small group of guests waiting near the seashore. "I knew Dad still held a grudge, but isn't this a bit much?"

"You know how your father is, once he gets in one of his moods."

Bruce grimly shook his head. "It probably is for the best he isn't here. Does he still blame Helen for turning him into a hippie?"

Ruth nodded. "Yes, he does."

They joined the small crowd. Simon, Tess, Rita, her new husband Ray, and Amy stood with a small knot of people that neither Bruce nor Ruth recognized.

Tess leaned over to Simon. "What the hell is going on here? His own father didn't show up. Is that psycho bastard too ashamed to be related to our little girl?"

Ashamed, Simon waved his hand for her to lower her voice. "Tess, please."

Ruth glared at Tess.

A local notary officiated, a co-worker of Helen's from the social services office was the maid of honor, and a fellow accountant where Jake worked was best man

With the last arrival, the notary said to Jake and Helen, "On this happy day, we are gathered to join two young people in marriage. You may begin your vows."

* * *

Tess looked down at her drink, "They say, pretty is in the eye of the beholder."

Before Ruth could reply, Helen and Jake returned with a fresh tray of sodas. Helen said, "It was the best we could afford."

Tess complained, "I hadn't planned on paying for two weddings, six months apart."

Helen sighed, "Mother, you only paid for one wedding, remember? We only asked for some help for a honeymoon and didn't even get that."

"Oh, yes. You said you didn't want any of my bourgeois influence on your ceremony. Still, if you two had waited another six months, I could have helped with the honeymoon."

Helen placed the tray on the table and sat. "Mother, by then, Jake was in his MBA program. His going back to school was the reason the wedding was simple and why we asked for help to pay for a honeymoon."

* * *

Jake slammed his fist down on the paper ledger. "Dammit, Helen! We just aren't getting anywhere. Once we pay for the wedding and honeymoon, we're flat broke again."

Helen sat down at the table. "I know. We're working harder than ever before, and we still don't seem to be making a difference."

"What good is making a difference if we can barely afford to eat?"

"At least we aren't being part of the problem."

"Yes we are, we're the victims."

"And we won't change anything this way." Helen gazed off in the distance for a while. "We've talked about going back to school. You for that MBA and I still want to be a lawyer."

"Helen, how can we do that?"

Disappointed, she said, "The wedding just got simple, and we ask Mother to help on the honeymoon."

"But, we still can't afford for either of us to quit our jobs."

Helen sat in thought again. "It's still a male-dominated world out there. You get your MBA first. It'll give us more earning potential, faster. Then, I can get my law degree. We'll have to make do and take out student loans. It'll take us into our thirties, but we can do it."

"Helen, that's brilliant. Then, we really can go out and take on the world."

* * *

The evening wore down with more minor sniping, but no serious detonations. Relieved, everyone eventually drifted apart to prepare for bed. Rita and Quinn talked about dating disasters as they closed the door to Quinn's room. Ruth and Tess were silent as they prepared to share the large bed in the guest room. Bruce joked, "I've slept on much worse," as he spread sheets on the sofa.

Daria's mouth was full of toothpaste when Ruth quietly approached her in the upstairs bathroom and said, "Daria, thank you for calling me to talk about Nathan, last winter. That meant a lot to know that you understood how he was changed by that horrible war. You also helped your father and Bruce."

Daria set aside her toothbrush and spit out the white foam as quietly as possible. "You're welcome, Grandma. I figured they should know, too."

Ruth looked uncertain how to continue. Finally, she said, "And, I'm so glad your mother finally redecorated your old room."

Daria ground her teeth together, but nodded.

"Good night, Daria."

"Good night."

Moments later, Tess entered the room. "Daria, it was very nice seeing you dressed like a lady, for a change, in that portrait."

"Um…thanks." _Happy now?_

"Although, I still think you need to do something with your hair."

"I like it this way."

"You must, you've worn it like that for years."

Daria rinsed off her toothbrush and put it into a travel case. "Speaking of hair." She picked up a brush and began to carefully run it thorough hers while pointedly not looking at Tess.

"You said the artist is your roommate. Does she attend Raft with you?"

"No, she goes to Boston Fine Arts College. I guess you can figure out why."

"I want a portrait of Erin and Brian done."

"And you want Jane to do it?"

"That is professional work down there."

"I agree, but I'm curious. There must be professional portrait artists closer to you."

"Yes, but they're known."

"I'm not following you."

"It looks good to find and display new talent to my associates. It's also a smart investment. Her work has the potential to increase in value. Even if not, I'll still have the portrait."

Daria looked at her in mild surprise. "Okay, I'll let Jane know."

"I'll call within the next couple weeks to make the accommodations."

"Sure."

"Daria, don't let anyone else know." Tess abruptly turned and walked away, leaving a puzzled Daria still quietly brushing her hair.

* * *

Amy looked around Daria's old bedroom. "It looks like Helen did do a nice job. But, I can see where you would've preferred the padding, especially on weekends like this."

Daria moved toward the air mattress on the floor. Amy waved her off. "You sleep in your bed, I'll take the inflatable. I hated having to give up my bed for visitors. I won't make others do it."

"Thanks. A good-will gesture?"

"Kind of."

Daria opened her bag and pulled out a nightshirt and Amy retrieved a nightgown from hers. Daria shrugged and said, "Can't be any worse than changing the in girl's locker room in high school."

Amy giggled slightly at the comment. "Now, that was something I hadn't thought of in a while."

"Someday, I will put the horror out of my mind."

Pulling the dark blue garment over her head, Amy said, "You and Michael seem to be getting along well."

"Yes."

"Do you think you'll be together, years from now?"

Softly smiling, Daria said, "I hope so," as she sat on the bed.

Amy crawled onto the air mattress and lay propped on one elbow. "You mentioned he planned on grad school, are you still planning on it?"

"Yeah. I'd mostly planned on it from the start, but now, definitely. College has been such a change from high school." Daria had a narrow smile. "I can understand now how some people can become career students."

"A little friendly warning. If you two make it together through grad school, you'll have to face the two-body problem."

"Well, I would expect we would maintain separate bodies."

"No, the problem a couple with advanced degrees face when they try to find relevant employment in the same area. Your parents have been lucky in dealing with it."

Daria sat on the bed and slowly exhaled. "In a way, we already have."

"Oh…oh, that problem you two had a couple months ago? You didn't go into much detail at the time."

Nodding, Daria said, "He almost went to Rome for school."

"Ouch. But, it sounds like he won't."

Daria looked at the floor. "He gave it up to stay with me, although I was trying to figure out how to see him there."

Amy looked down at her pillow. "That's sweet. I hope it works out with you. I wish my story ended that well. I'm outside D.C. and he's in Louisiana. Neither of us would give, so we both lost."

* * *

Daria and Amy were surprised to find Bruce in the kitchen when they wandered down in search of coffee. He was almost finished preparing breakfast for the entire crowd and looked up at them. "Morning, folks. Hope you don't mind me helping myself."

Daria scanned the counter. "You've been awfully energetic first thing in the morning."

As he scooped scrambled eggs onto a serving plate, he said, "Those sofas. When I said I'd slept on worse, I was wrong."

Amy poured coffee while Daria started getting plates ready. Amy said, "Bruce, where did you learn to cook?"

"Trial and error, after my divorce."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Bruce sadly shook his head. "Don't be. Anybody in their right mind would have left me."

Daria quizzically looked at him. "You've always been so nice around us, I never understood that."

"Oh, I learned to behave in polite society. Boy did I learn."

"Grandpa Nathan?"

Bruce nodded. "But I learned to explode in private. Violently."

"Oh. I never knew Grandpa Nathan hit you two."

"Dad didn't hit us; he was an expert a psychological abuse. But, I did. Can't blame Tina at all for leaving and taking Alexandra with. They were much better off that way."

Daria looked away. "Um…"

"Tina was a good woman and could have really screwed me over, but didn't. All it would have taken was her pressing charges and my career was over with a dishonorable discharge. She left me with that, and I made sure every check was on time until she remarried."

Daria continued to stare in surprise at Bruce.

Jake and Helen walked into the kitchen, each still in robes. Helen looked at the busy scene. "What a surprise, and I'm supposed to be the hostess."

Bruce pulled some toast from the toaster and placed them on a tray. "I was awake and thought I would repay some hospitality."

Jake looked at the still dumbstruck Daria. "Honey, are you okay?"

She shook her head. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just a little surprised about something."

Bruce said, "I figured she was old enough to know what really happened with me and Tina."

Helen's hand rose to her mouth. "Oh, my. That was so long ago."

"It took me a long time and to get over it and a lot of counseling to control my rages. I still don't entirely trust myself." He nodded toward Daria. "Thanks for those recordings. It helped to learn that Dad wasn't always like that."

Amy tilted her head toward Daria. "What recordings?"

Daria said, "While doing transcriptions for a history professor, I found some recordings of Grandpa Nathan. Before and after his experiences in Korea. He went through a lot."

Amy grimaced. "I'll skip filling in the blanks."

Daria looked at Jake. "I guess I'm glad you didn't hit us. Although when we were young, your angry rants were scary."

Jake stepped back and stammered, "Th…they were?"

"Very scary, Daddy," Quinn said as she entered the kitchen. "But we learned that you would calm down."

Jake looked down as his hands. "I'm sorry."

Daria moved next to him. "And, that you would never hurt us."

Wearing a pale yellow robe, Rita joined Quinn. "Morning, everyone. Boy, you all look depressed."

Bruce said, "Oh, just talking about my wonderful interpersonal skills and how they wrecked my marriage."

Rita groaned and said, "At least you only wrecked one marriage. I've had three go to hell on me. The really sad thing is, Ray lasted the longest."

Quinn asked, "He was Erin's father, right?"

Rita nodded. "She was the only good thing to come out of my first marriage."

Amy said, "Well, besides getting those two hitched," pointing to Jake and Helen.

Rita idly picked up a slice of toast and buttered it. "I've never been good at marriages."

Daria looked at Rita and thought, _I think we better keep you away from Jane's brother, Wind._

Rita went on to say, "I'm sometimes afraid for Erin. She and Brian are still having problems."

Helen muttered, "If you hadn't spent your life trying to appease mother, or your idiot husbands and boyfriends, she may have learned to cope with things better."

Rita snapped, "Appeasing?"

"Yes. You have always gone out of your way to please Mother, and she always rewarded you. But, Ray and the others just used your compulsion to please to get what they wanted."

"I…I..." Rita looked down and shuffled her feet.

Helen looked at Rita and slowly closed her eyes. At a whisper, she said, "Damn. I wanted to avoid bickering this weekend. I shouldn't have said anything."

Everyone went quiet for a while

Desperate to change the subject, Rita looked around and noticed Bruce wearing an apron. "You made breakfast?"

"Guilty. Help yourself, everything's ready."

People slowly began to fill plates and little was said.

Daria stood by Helen and said, "When I think of all that happened; those first few years of your marriage must have been a rough time for everyone."

Helen bowed her head for a moment before speaking. "It was. Jake's father died less than a year after we were married, mine another year after that. First Jake was in school and we had to squeeze by on my salary to live on and pay tuition. Then, we switched places in seventy-eight. To be honest, we fought a lot, but we always made up after."

"With all that, I'm surprised you decided to have children."

Helen leaned against the counter. "It was difficult and frightening. The economy back in seventy-nine and eighty was bad. Even with his MBA, you father was in a fairly modest paying job. We'd stayed close to Middleton for me to go to law school. Rita and Bruce's divorces at the same time scared us."

Jake said to Daria as he dished up his breakfast, "I think I was more concerned than your mother. In the end though, it was the right decision."

* * *

Jake and Helen lay cuddled in the cramped bed of their apartment. Helen softly stroked Jake's chest. "Tell the truth: despite the problems your brother and my sister had, you want children as much as I do."

"Yes, but I'm still spooked by what happened to them."

"Don't be. You know we love each other enough to get through our problems, just like we've always done."

"What if I can't control my temper?"

"We'll be there to help each other. I'll help you with your temper, just like you'll make sure I don't play favorites, like my mother did."

"I guess."

"You know, we're approaching thirty. This will be the best time for us to try."

"But Honey, you're still in law school."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy. But, once I graduate and join a firm, taking time off to have a child will be even more difficult."

"Money is going to be tight."

"We've made it through before. Besides, we're better off now than when you went through grad school."

"But, won't it interrupt your studies?"

"Not too badly, if we time things right."

* * *

Helen looked at Daria. "Both of you were a little early. I'd hoped to have you over winter break and Quinn after graduation. But, I was so happy to see you, it didn't matter."

* * *

After breakfast, Daria, Quinn, Bruce and Amy were appointed to put out flowers and apply garlands and decorations to the living room, under the watchful eyes of Ruth and Tess. Helen recruited Rita to help her get into the replicated wedding dress, and Jake anxiously prepared in the upstairs bathroom.

Bruce steadied the chair Quinn stood on to hang a garland, while Amy held one for Daria at the other end.

Ruth said, "Quinn, you need to raise your end a little bit."

Tess shook her head in frustration, "No, Daria needs to lower her end."

Ruth looked at Tess. "I know what I'm doing."

"Clearly not. Daria needs to lower her…"

"That would bring the garland too close to the window. You want to frame the window with it, not line the edge."

"So you think you know something about home décor?"

"That is the only way I had to support myself after I lost Nathan. Unlike others, who could rest on their inheritance."

Daria and Quinn looked at each other and shrugged, then each moved their ends halfway to line the garland up.

Amy looked up for a moment and then at Daria and Quinn. "Bruce, I was thinking. It really has been a long time. I last saw you when we helped Jake and Helen move to Texas back in eighty-four. Quinn was only two and Daria not quite four."

"They were cute little girls."

Daria and Quinn gave an excellent performance of synchronized eye rolling.

Jake came down the stairs in a billowing white shirt and black slacks. "Boy, that trip to Texas was an adventure. We really did appreciate the two of you helping."

* * *

Helen carefully buckled Quinn into the child seat in the back of a green sedan. Daria was already seated and buckled into the other back seat. Done, she turned to face Amy and Bruce. "Thanks for taking the time to help."

Amy shrugged. "I've got a few weeks to kill before I start my doctorate in the fall and had nothing else to do."

Bruce said, "I don't have a lot else to do with it, might as well burn my leave helping my brother."

Jake approached. "Okay, I've got the Haul-R's truck closed up and ready to go."

Helen looked at an open map. "We should be able to make it in three days." She looked over at the car. "We won't be able to push as hard with our little darlings along. Amy, you ride with me to help with the children and Bruce will drive the truck."

Amy pulled her glasses down and peered over the top. "You want the two of us bottled up in a small space for two days…in front of your children?"

"I was hoping to catch up with you a little more. With us out in Texas, I won't be able to see you as often."

Amy whispered to Bruce, "This is a problem?"

Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Why don't Amy and I alternate driving the truck and helping with the kids. We can also trade off driving the car to give you a break."

"Oh, I suppose that will work."

Jake looked up at their old second-floor apartment. "Going to miss this place. Both our little girls were born while we lived there."

Helen looked up at the stairs leading to the front door. "I won't miss worrying about the girls falling down those stairs. Or the upstairs neighbors stereo, or the neighbors to the right with their loud nocturnal activities."

"But Helen…"

"Jake, we're moving on."

"It's going to be a little hard to find a new job in Texas. What was the name of that town again?"

Sighing, Helen said, "Highland. I wrote all the information down for you. Please, don't lose your plane tickets."

"Honey, I won't do that. Two weeks alone finishing up those last contracts is going to be miserable." He looked skyward and yelled, "But I should be used to that by now! 'Why don't you spend spring break at the academy, son. The janitorial staff are getting used to you being there.' Not like my family was used to me being home!"

Helen jammed her hands to her hips. "Jake! We don't need that now."

"What! Oh, sorry."

Helen took Jake's arm and began walking toward the apartment. "Amy, Bruce, we need to get going soon. I can't afford to be late for my first day at the law firm. Why don't you get in the cars and I'll be back in a bit."

With nods from them, Helen escorted Jake upstairs. "Jake, I know this is tough for you."

"I was finally starting to get somewhere with the company."

"I know. But, this new firm specializes in defending tax-exempt groups and social activists. I can make such a difference there."

Jake slumped. "You're right. All I'm doing in my job is making money for a greedy company. Where did I go wrong?"

Helen kissed him. "You got a little sidetracked to keep me in school. Now, we can go out and do something different."

"Right."

"Besides, this new firm likes my background and thinks I can make partner quickly. Won't that be great?"

"It sure will. I'm starting to have a good feeling about this move."

"So do I. This can really be our big break."

* * *

Quinn scrunched her face. "Eww. You thought Highland was a good move?"

Jake looked downcast. "We thought it was at the time."

Task complete, Daria and Quinn stepped off the chairs. Daria said, "I'm sure they didn't mention the uranium tainted drinking water in the new resident brochures."

Quinn added, "Or that it created those two…things…that Daria used to torment."

Bruce half-smiled and Amy raised an eyebrow at Daria.

Daria looked over at Ruth and Tess, who were still in an animated discussion and pointing at the hung garland. She gave a slight nod of, "Best to leave them alone," and said to Amy, "Two utterly moronic boys I knew in middle school and my one year of high school there. They were…entertaining. Like two train wrecks on legs, with hormones."

Jake sat down in and gave a heavy sigh. "Two train wrecks. Sounds like our careers after a while." Jakes voice rose as he continued. "I was working for a Mussolini clone that gave never had a good thing…"

Daria and Quinn moved up. Quinn said, "Dad, no stress this weekend, remember?"

He turned with eyes wide open. "Oh! Oh, sorry Quinn. Just got a little worked up. Helen's law firm failed after two years. She was out of work for several months before her tax-exempt experience landed her a position at another partnership."

Daria said to her father, "I remember them; they had all the ethics of a parasite on the backside of a bottom-feeder."

Quinn shuddered. "They always seemed so creepy."

Jake frowned. "There went all of our grand ideas for changing the world. We had to take care of you two first. I kept at it with my job and Helen bit her tongue to work for those people."

Ruth and Tess stopped talking and looked at Jake, joining everyone else.

"We wanted the best for our girls, but Highland wasn't a good place for them. I wish we'd noticed sooner."

Daria said, "Dad, I remember how hard you two worked. It would've been easy to miss."

"Finally, we saw what that place was doing to you. I seriously worked up my business plan, and Helen started looking for a new law firm, far away from Highland."

* * *

Helen beamed as she talked on the telephone. "Yes…oh, yes…October fourteenth…I'll start taking care of things immediately…good bye."

She excitedly said to Jake, "I start in one month."

Jake returned the enthusiasm. "One month, wow. Hey, we need to get cracking on stuff."

"No kidding. It's a good thing I did some house hunting while I was in Lawndale for the interview." Helen pulled a file folder from her briefcase and started removing pages, each with a Polaroid photo of a house. "I really liked this one, gorgeous red brick, four bedrooms, two car garage, and in a good neighborhood that's an easy walk to the high school."

Jake looked off in the distance and yelled, "Free at last! Okay, you bastard, I'm on my way out! Jake Morgendorffer Consulting, here I come!"

Helen quietly sighed. "Yes, dear. The new firm has promised a fast review for partnership because of all my previous experience. With the pay increase I'll be getting over the skinflints I work for now, we should do well while you build up your business."

"Oh, we'll need a new house."

Jake. I said I'd looked." She put forth the one she had discussed before. "How about this one?"

"What? Oh…hey, that place looks pretty good. Do you want to get it?"

"Yes, Jake. I'll call the realtor tomorrow. We can Package-Air the forms back and forth and close on it by the time we move."

* * *

Helen held Jake's hand as they faced Daria and Quinn, who were just finishing dinner. Helen said, "Girls, we have some important news."

Daria looked up with unrestrained disinterest. "You're replacing us with low-maintenance androids and shipping us across the border to a sweatshop."

Jake blurted out, "We're moving to Lawndale, Maryland next month!"

Quinn looked at him. "Maryland? What's there?"

Helen said, "I've accepted a position at a law firm in a small town north of Baltimore. I start in one month. You girls need to start preparing to move."

Quinn's eyes widened, "I have to pack?"

Daria smirked at Quinn. "Only if you want to bring your overstuffed wardrobe with. I'll be just as happy if you don't pack and we leave it all here."

"Mo-om!"

Helen pinched her nose in pain. "Girls. We'll be leaving here in three weeks. I expect both of you to help."

Daria thought for a moment, "Do we have a place to stay, or will we be homeless for a while?"

Helen swallowed. "Daria. Yes, we will have a new house, one much nicer than this."

"Then, I don't see a downside."

"Good."

Daria stood up and started toward her room. "Guess I better get started; I have so much to pack." As she closed the door to her room, a very rare, broad smile spread across her face. "We're really getting away from here."

* * *

With the decorations complete, everyone dispersed to change for the ceremony. Slowly, they gathered again in the living room in various semi-formal ensembles. Daria came down in a long green skirt and white blouse, Quinn in a red-wine colored dress, Bruce in a dark gray suit, Rita in pale blue pants and shirt, and Amy in the same black and purple she wore to Erin's wedding.

Daria smiled at her parents standing on top of the stairs. Her mother wore the simple white gown, her father wore a white, billowing shirt and black pants. They walked down holding hands and stood in front of the large corner window of the house. The guests joined together in a half-circle around them.

Though the ink on the parchment paper was slightly faded, Jake and Helen held the framed vows between them.

Both of them recited:

"Under an open sky and upon sacred ground  
I acknowledge the ones of the universe.  
May the cosmic forces bless our union and  
make it a journey of enlightenment."

Helen spoke:

"I pledge my commitment to your growth and  
self-realization. I respect your beingness. I  
recognize your personhood. I promise to get  
out of the way and let you discover who you  
are. I will not get on your case or nag."

Jake placed a circlet of flowers on Helen's brow and responded with:

"I place this garland on your crown as a  
symbol of the never-ending circle of life and  
death – a journey we shall take together.  
Merging lives is a pretty big deal. I pledge  
that I have thought this thing out and  
really want to do it."

Together, they finished with:

"We will raise our children to be independent  
pirits, free from oppressive rules and society's  
expectations – an organic expression of our  
physical love.  
Let us begin this karmic adventure. In the  
presence of friends and trees, we take each  
other as man and woman. The revolution  
begins with us!"

Tess grumbled, "I couldn't believe it the first time you used those vows, and I really can't believe you used them again."

Helen and Jake stared at her.

Ruth turned toward Tess, "I don't care how badly it sounded. My Jakey and your daughter wrote that."

"Ah, you're showing the same taste you had in hanging the decorations."

"You've been riding on my Jakey ever since you met him."

"Well, look at him. They're still only celebrating a wedding they were pushed into."

"I seem to remember that Rita was five months pregnant when she got married. Talk about being pushed into something."

Rita's face flashed red. "We were already engaged before I got pregnant. You don't think a wedding like my first comes together in less than five months, do you?"

Ruth snapped back, "I wouldn't know, I've never had that kind of money to throw away."

Tess rolled out, "Perhaps if you had married a man of means instead of that psychopath."

Bruce barked at Tess. "Look, Dad had his problems, but those came about after they were married. Don't say Mom married someone like that." His hands clenched into fists.

Rita said, "But she stayed with him. At least your ex had the sense to get the hell out of Dodge."

Amy added, "Like all three of yours?"

Tess growled at Amy, "Whose side are you on?"

Amy fired back, "My own, just like I've always been forced to. You were certainly never on my side, especially in high school."

Tess stepped back, "Well, I never…"

Ruth added, "Even your daughter won't back you up."

Amy turned to Ruth. "You didn't do such a great job yourself; look at all the crap Jake and Bruce have had to deal with in their screwed-up heads."

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU IDIOTS!" Daria stood with fingertips pressed to her temples.

Silence filled the room as everyone turned to face Daria.

"My God. Mom and Dad just renewed their wedding vows, and you start fighting within seconds. What is wrong with everyone?"

Ruth, Tess, Rita, Amy, and Bruce all stared at the floor.

"Mom and Dad don't have a perfect marriage; trust me, I know. I've lived with them longer than any of you. But can't you at least behave for one freaking weekend?" Daria walked to her still-stunned parents. "Happy anniversary."

Helen and Jake both embraced Daria. Helen said, "Oh, Sweetie."

Blushing, Daria briefly hugged them back. Eyes still aflame in frustration, she turned to face the rest. "Okay, change of plans. Everyone is clearing out of the house, now. Mom and Dad are going to have a peaceful and quiet day to themselves. Quinn, call around to find a place to stay tonight. All the rest of us, we were planning on leaving today anyway, we'll just get an earlier start."

Everyone still stood around in surprise at Daria's outburst. Quinn stepped beside Daria and made shooing motions with her hands. "You heard her. Get moving."

* * *

After seeing everyone's abrupt departure, Daria and Quinn went upstairs to prepare their exits. Quinn quietly closed the door after following Daria into her room. "I was really surprised by what you did down there."

"Mom and Dad may have their faults, but they didn't deserve that."

"They weren't perfect parents, but they did try in their own way."

Daria replied, "When they met during the sixties, they were so busy trying to save the world, they forgot to save themselves."

"You know, in a way, they did save each other. I don't think either one would have made it alone."

Daria gave a brief laugh. "Quinn, that's quite an observation, and you're right. They are the supports that keep each other going."

"It's too bad that life didn't treat them any better."

"They did make the most of what life gave them. They've been married for twenty-five years, and together for almost thirty-two. None of their siblings came anywhere close to that. All things considered, they've also made a good life for us."

"I wish we could do more for them."

Daria placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "We can. By making sure we lead good lives."

Quinn looked in confusion. "Aren't you usually giving me a hard time about being self-centered?"

"They sacrificed a lot for us, we owe them. What they want most in return is for us to be happy."

"I think I can do that."

"Deal."

* * *

The seemingly endless miles of interstate passed by Daria as she traveled back to Boston. _That could have gone better, but I learned a lot._

Daria sipped from a cup of convenience store coffee and continued thinking and driving.

_Mom and Dad did go through a lot in their lives. I've never thought of just how much, or what they gave up for Quinn and me._

_You have to admire how their love held them together through all the problems._

Daria smiled and said out loud, "Like the way I hope Michael and I love each other."

Daria reached over to adjust the radio to a new station and continued on her way. She felt a tug at the corner of her mind that something important had happened.

Five minutes later, she pulled into a rest area, wide-eyed, as she realized what she had said.

* * *

Jake and Helen's wedding vows from _The Daria Diaries_ by Anne D. Bernstein.

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

December 2004


	25. Freedom of Speech

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-fifth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Freedom of Speech**

Jane Lane shook her head at her best friend, Daria Morgendorffer, who was packing a black travel bag. "Come on, you can tell me. You're flying to Detroit in a couple hours to spend a four-day holiday weekend with Michael. You admitted to me that you almost said yes to his crazy marriage proposal last May. I've never seen you this happy. Do you love him?"

Daria looked at Jane and whispered, "Yes."

After a long pause, Jane said, "Does he know?"

"Jane. This isn't easy. What if I'm being premature? Or I'm just wrong?"

"It's a risk. You know he loves you."

"I know. I'm just..."

"Nervous?" Jane gave her a friendly smile. "You're almost as bad as when you had the crush on my brother."

"Jane."

Jane sat on the bed next to the travel bag. "Daria, you're tongue-tied."

"I…crap."

"Try this: why does he affect you so much?"

Daria zipped the bag closed and thought before saying, "He…cares for all of me." Daria looked a little confused. "Did that make sense?"

Jane nodded. "Perfect sense. He cares for the person you show the world, and the one you keep hidden inside. How'd he get in?"

Daria sat back. "I let him. After Dad told me how scared he was the first time he asked Mom out, and Mom told me how she agreed. It made me realize I should give him a chance."

Jane watched intently. "He found that shy woman you've kept inside all these years?"

Daria nodded and blushed. "He held her hand and was happy with her."

"I bet he's happy she held his hand back."

"I know what you're up to. Okay, I promise to tell him this weekend. Are you happy?"

"I will be, if you do it."

* * *

The pilot's voice said, "Welcome to Detroit Metropolitan Airport. The outside temperature is eighty degrees and expected to reach eighty-three for the high. We hope you enjoy your stay in Detroit, or welcome home if you're a resident."

Daria retrieved her laptop from under the seat and waited patiently to depart the plane. She slightly smiled at the tall man struggling to extricate himself from the seat next to hers. _There is one advantage to being small; airline seats aren't as cramped._ She stood and followed the line out and down the exit concourse.

Daria saw a woman in her early forties, with her red hair pulled back into a bun and holding a card with "Daria" written on it. The woman's deep blue business suit was expertly cut to fit her somewhat heavy, 5'6" frame. Daria approached and said, "Mrs. Fulton?"

The woman smiled widely and hugged Daria. "Please, call me Samantha. My employees call me Mrs. Fulton. Daria, I want you to feel welcome in our home and family." She released her and looked at Daria. "That picture my son sent doesn't do you justice at all." She motioned for her to follow. "Let's rescue your bags and get out of this place."

"It was very kind of you to take off work to pick me up; I could have taken a cab."

"One advantage to being the boss: you approve your own leave. Besides, I have plenty to use. This isn't a problem."

"Still, thanks."

"It'll probably take a good forty-five minutes, what with traffic and road construction."

"Not much worse than my fight driving to Logan this morning."

* * *

Partway to the Fulton residence, Samantha pulled into a small fast-food restaurant. "I could use a cold drink."

Daria shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

They quickly had their drinks and settled into a booth. Samantha took a long swallow from the straw and spoke. "You've had quite an effect on my son."

_The interrogation begins._ Daria smiled and looked downward in mild embarrassment. "Thanks, I think."

"I'm thanking you."

Daria sat back and craned her neck forward some. "Oh?"

"He was lonely through high school and only had one friend. He never said anything, but I know he was teased a lot. I was worried about him."

Daria nodded. "I know a lot of how that feels. I really didn't have any friends until we moved to Lawndale early in my sophomore year. For a good chunk of high school, Jane was my only friend."

"When he got off the plane last December, I knew something special had happened to him."

Daria blushed. "Samantha, we had just started dating then."

"But, he was happy in a way I'd never seen before."

Daria looked directly at Samantha. "Everyone said the same about me. He's a very gentle and caring man. I think you had something to do with that."

Samantha nodded. "Well, we tried."

"I think you succeeded."

Samantha took another drink before saying, "I hope you didn't mind my interference in getting you back together with him."

Daria relaxed a bit and gave her a small smile. "It was a kind gesture. I should let you know that it only sped up the process by a couple days. I was planning on driving out here…"

"Helen thought you would; after planting the idea. But, we decided to take the most time-efficient route."

"You two really did plan that out."

Samantha reached across the table. "Daria, we knew why our children were unhappy, and wanted to do something as quickly as possible."

"Don't get me wrong, we really appreciated it."

"But, you would be more comfortable if we didn't make plotting together a regular concern."

"Well…yes."

"Deal. We'll do it only on an as-needed basis."

Daria studied the top of her cup as she drank from the straw. _Now, to make sure you don't have a need._

* * *

The drive took them to St. Clair Shores and a modest gray and blue house along a canal that opened into Lake St. Clair. A small, open boathouse was visible in the back yard by the canal, with a boat suspended in slings. The landscaping had a slightly unruly look, indicating it was done by the residents as time permitted and not by an almost invisible lawn service like the one Daria's parents used.

Samantha ushered Daria into the house and began to go up the stairs. "You'll be staying in my daughter, Gina's, room. We have a sofa-bed in the living room for her to sleep on while you're here."

Daria gently shook her head. "The sofa-bed will be fine for me. Let Gina stay in her room."

Samantha replied, "Are you sure? You're our guest."

"Yes. Think of it as a goodwill gesture." Daria lifted her single bag. "I don't have a whole lot to store, and I can change in the bathroom. Don't worry; I don't wear anything revealing to sleep in."

A teenage girl with dark brown hair looked in from the kitchen, wearing cut-off jeans and a bright yellow t-shirt. "So this is the chick that has my brother going stupid."

Another brunette girl, about the same age and sporting glasses, peered around the first. "But then, that wouldn't take much."

Samantha gave each a brief, sharp look. "Daria, my daughter Gina, she's fifteen. The other one is her best friend, Natalie."

Daria said, "Hi, Gina, Natalie."

"This is Michael's girlfriend, Daria."

Both girls said, "Hi."

Samantha said, "I'm going to finish showing Daria around and then I'm taking you two to the mall for a while."

As they departed, Daria heard Natalie whisper, "How did that geek brother of yours get a girlfriend like her?"

"You got me."

* * *

Although only in his mid-forties, his premature gray hair and advanced pattern baldness made Ron Fulton look older. He parked in the driveway and turned to his son, Michael, seated next to him. "I rather conveniently have an errand to run and will be back in about half an hour."

Noting his father's grin, Michael muttered, "Thanks," and got out of the car. He waited for the car to back away before going to the front door. He stamped his work boots against the matt to clear the day's mud and dirt. _Mom called that Daria got here okay and would be waiting. _He inhaled and opened the door.

From the television came, "Fireflies in the Signal Corps. Bug-eyed draftees; next on _Sick, Sad World_."

Daria turned at the sound of the door. "Michael." She got up from the sofa and crossed the room to embrace him.

He said, "Daria, I'm so happy to see you."

"I've missed you." She wrapped her arms around his chest and he encircled her shoulders.

"I've missed you. Be careful, the plots we surveyed today were full of brambles and some are still stuck in my clothes."

"I don't care," Daria said as she softly pulled them together.

He quietly said, "I love you," before kissing her.

With an, "Ow," she backed slightly away and pulled a thorn from just below her collarbone. "I get the point."

Michael winced and said, "I'll go change. Dad won't be back for half an hour."

Daria smiled and caressed his cheek. "Your mother took Gina and her friend to the mall and won't be back for an hour."

After saying, "I'll grab a quick shower and be right back," he ran up the stairs.

Daria sat back down on the sofa and placed her hand on her chest. _Whoa! My heart is pounding. I thought that crap only happened in cheap romances_.

Daria closed her eyes and did some breathing exercises she'd learned in her summer theater class, to calm stage fright. She fingered the malachite pendant she wore. _Okay, that was a powerful reaction_. She looked up toward the stairs. "I love you."

She rubbed her face for a moment. _It's getting easier to say_. She sat back, sighed and whispered, "Now, to say it to him. I can do it. Just…not right away."

She looked around the living room. _Such a different household. I can't believe that his parents went out of their way to give us time alone._

The sound of running water could be heard from upstairs. After a minute, Daria glanced up again and smiled. _And, I'm really surprised I'm having thoughts like that_.

* * *

Ron stopped his hand just as it was about the grab the doorknob. He redirected it to his pocket and removed a set of keys. After inserting one in the lock, he slowly and noisily turned it back and forth before opening the door.

He smiled at his son sitting on the sofa next to a petite girl with glasses. Her thick, auburn hair was slightly mussed and there was a faint pink blush to her cheeks. "Hi, you must be Daria. I'm Ron." As he walked over, he added, "Please, stay seated." He took her hand and gently shook it. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hi, Mr. Fulton."

"Ron, please."

"Okay."

He seated himself on a recliner. "How was your flight?"

"We hit some rough turbulence about halfway here, but otherwise fine."

He chuckled lightly and smiled at the two. "You don't have to maintain a hands-off policy while I'm around. I'm not so old I've forgotten what it's like."

Daria looked down slightly. "Well, um, thanks."

Michael placed his arm over her shoulder and she leaned over against him.

"You look more comfortable."

Daria hesitantly said, "Uh, yeah, we are."

After another chuckle, Ron said, "Good. Now, how badly did my wife grill you on the way home?"

* * *

Samantha opened the door to find Michael and Daria cuddled on the sofa. Across the room, Ron was stretched out on his recliner and saying, "Only the soon-to-be-dead call her Sam." He looked over upon hearing the door. "Hey, dear."

She went behind the chair and hugged his neck. After leaning over to kiss him, she asked, "Have you stayed out of trouble?"

"I rattled the key in the lock, like I promised."

Gina and Natalie followed, each carrying a bag. Gina made a face. "Gawd, synchronized smooching. Look at what we have to put up with this weekend."

Natalie looked away, "Sheesh."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "We?"

Natalie looked back. "Mom was called in to work extra shifts for the holiday weekend and asked if I could stay here."

Michael lightly shook his head. "Why not? You practically live here, anyway. So, you and Gina get to share the sofa?"

Gina started toward the stairs and said, "Nope, my room. Your girlfriend was actually cool enough to take the sofa."

Natalie followed, and said from the top of the stairs, "Sorry, lover boy. You'll have to sneak downstairs if you want to make out with her."

Samantha went to the base of the stairs. "Girls, you better behave around our guest!"

Michael massaged his temple. "You know how little sisters can be."

Daria looked up toward the stairs. "Oh, yes. I took a clue from my Aunt Amy and didn't want to force someone out of their room. I'm hoping it will help."

Samantha headed to the kitchen, rubbing her hands. "I prepared dinner beforehand, so we'll only need a little while for it to cook. I normally don't go to this much work, but I wanted to fix one of my specialties tonight."

Daria looked at the rapidly receding woman. "Thanks, Samantha."

* * *

"Lasagna," Daria said as she looked at the simply set dining table. Everyone else moved quickly to sit, bearing smiles and other signs of pleasure. She pushed on and sat next to Michael and directly across from Gina and Natalie.

Samantha started cutting into the lasagna. "I hope you don't mind that I'm using fat-free ricotta cheese and extra lean meat in this." She looked down at herself. "My doctor ordered me onto a low-fat, low-cholesterol diet."

Daria focused on the glass baking dish as the realization dawned. It wasn't frozen lasagna in a disposable aluminum dish. She looked up. "Oh, not at all. This is your recipe?"

"My grandmother's." She finished cutting and served a section each to Daria and Natalie, followed with servings of vegetables and a roll. "Our guests get served, the rest of you are on your own." She backed away, watched the food quickly get passed around, and dispatched to plates.

Michael immediately took a bite and savored it. "Hmm. Maybe I should convince Daria to come by more often if you're going to do this."

Natalie quipped, "If it gets me promoted to guest and served, I'll agree with you, for once."

Daria took a taste and opened her eyes in surprise. The pasta was at just the right firmness, the tomato sauce was flavorful, and the bite of crushed garlic was balanced by fresh herbs. "Wow."

Samantha smiled and said, "Thank you. You act like you've never had lasagna before."

* * *

The next morning, Michael stopped halfway down the stairs and looked over at Daria asleep on the open sofa-bed. She was on her side and facing toward him with faint smile visible on her auburn shrouded face. He had a mild start when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His father looked past, toward the sleeping woman and whispered, "I find myself watching your mother like this, too."

"She is so pretty."

"I can see why you'd be attracted to her."

Michael nodded. "I still can't believe she forgave me."

Ron looked at Michael's face and smiled. "Son, I don't know why your mother's put up with me. Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth."

"I guess I shouldn't."

Both watched the sleeping woman for a few moments before Michael added, "I love her, and just…wish I knew for certain she felt the same."

"Michael, she flew out here just to see you for a long weekend and agreed to put up with us. I think that should tell you something."

"I suppose. I told her how I felt back in April…"

"How long did it take you to build up the courage to tell her?"

Michael looked down. "Um…several months…and I didn't really get the courage; it kind of came out on its own."

Ron lightly chuckled. "Ever thought she might be nervous, too?"

Michael looked at him, slightly shaken. "What?"

"That she might be nervous?"

He looked back at Daria as the statement hit home. "I never thought of that. Should I ask?"

"No. Make her comfortable. If she feels the same, she will tell you, when she's ready."

Michael sighed. "Thanks."

"By the way, what has you up so early?"

"We wanted to arrive at the DIA when it opened. One of our first dates was to the Raft art galleries." Michael looked away. _We also hoped to have a little time together this morning_.

Ron winked and said, "Have a nice day, I'm going back to bed."

Ron went back upstairs as Michael descended and quietly moved next to Daria. _Fair is fair, you got to wake me when I stayed at your folks_. He knelt on the floor and watched her sleep for a few moments. He grinned and removed his glasses, placing them on an end table. He leaned over and lightly nibbled on her earlobe.

Still asleep, Daria murmured, "Michael," and let out a soft moan.

Starting just below her ear, he began a series of gentle kisses along her jaw line. At the moment he reached her lips and kissed them, Michael reached over and gently drew his fingertips along her back. She arched her back in pleasure and awoke.

Michael once again marveled at her deep, rich, brown eyes as they opened. "Good morning."

Waking to see his clear, green eyes was an unexpected joy. Daria smiled and returned the lingering kiss. "It certainly is."

"I thought I would repay the favor from two months ago."

"I'd say it was paid in full. Although, payment for future favors would be looked upon agreeably."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Daria put a hand behind his head and softly kissed him again. Michael stroked her hair and the side of her face as they continued to kiss.

"You weren't kidding. They're already at it." Natalie said with mild distaste.

Beside her, Gina said, "Way to go, big brother. Set a good example for us." Both teens were near the top of the stairs in long nightshirts, leaning on the rail.

"At least they have clothes on."

Michael turned and looked angrily at his sister. "Gina. You're pushing it."

Daria fumbled for her glasses and put them on.

Natalie snickered. "She blushes easy."

"Argh," Daria muttered as she sat up on the bed. "Natalie, do you have a younger sister?"

"I'm an only child. That's one of the reasons I come over here, so I can have a brother to annoy."

Michael retrieved his glasses and put them on. "How long have you two been watching?"

Gina pointed her thumb down the hall. "Since Dad went into his room."

Michael groaned in embarrassment and Daria rested her forehead on her hand, saying, "No good deed goes unpunished."

Gina looked at Natalie with a mischievous smirk. "Our work here is done. Let's go back to my room and leave the lovebirds alone. I want to get started on our Buffy marathon."

Natalie nodded and both headed back up.

Daria leaned against Michael. "Well, that was wonderfully embarrassing."

"Welcome to my world. At least Quinn is better behaved toward you."

Daria raised an eyebrow. "Now. In her own way, she was just as bad at fifteen." She rolled out of bed and stood. "Well, now that I'm awake, do you mind if I take a break to take care of certain needs?" She indicated her green t-shirt and white shorts. "And get into something more appropriate for a museum?"

"Uh, no. I'll try to find some breakfast."

* * *

By opening time, Daria and Michael were waiting outside the Detroit Institute of Arts, or DIA. They slowly spent the morning going through the Robert Hudson Tannahill American Wing. As they strolled through the colonial art exhibits, Daria looked down at her hand in Michael's and remembered the first time they held hands, at the Raft student art galleries during one of their first dates the previous December. _Seven months ago._ Daria let out a short laugh.

Michael looked at her and asked, "Care to let me in on the joke?"

"Our first date was almost seven months ago."

"This is funny, how?"

"We, um, missed our six-month anniversary."

"Okay…I'm missing something here."

"I had a kind of blow-up with Tom over him not remembering our six month anniversary. After Quinn had to remind me of it."

"And, you forgot again."

Daria looked a little embarrassed. "Um, yeah. But, you didn't even think of it."

He shrugged. "Well, anniversary tends to imply annual, not semiannual."

"Smart aleck."

He turned her and grasped both her hands. "I promise to remember the anniversary of our first date." He grinned. "December third."

She took a moment to think. "Hey."

He grinned again. "I'm a history major; I'm good at remembering dates."

* * *

After completing their leisurely stroll through the gallery, Daria found herself waiting at a table while Michael picked up a small lunch for them.

She watched him at the counter and closed her hand, thinking of the warmth of his. _This would be a good time to tell him. This feels so much like the date when I first kissed him. I know I can do it. All I have to do is…_

"Here we go." Michael set a tray holding two hamburgers and a pair of drinks on the table.

Daria emerged from her reverie. "Huh? Oh, thanks."

He sat and said, "Thinking about something?"

"What? Oh, um…" _Crap._ "Uh, not much. I was kind of wondering about how laid back your parents were about us being together. After all of the paranoia from mine about us possibly having sex, yours seem almost unconcerned."

"Not unconcerned, realistic. They know that if we were determined, we could find the time and place to do something. However, if they give us some time alone, we will be less tempted. They've always trusted me and they're extending that to you. Also, Mom and Dad are a couple of perpetual romantics who've been more than thrilled at me finding someone."

"I'm just not used to that kind of attitude. It seems so…reasonable."

"They're probably mutants, but I'm not complaining."

* * *

Late in the afternoon, they were heading back from the museum in the same silver/gray sedan Michael had driven to Lawndale. Daria was in the passenger seat, holding up a t-shirt from the Contemporary Art gallery. "Jane's going to get a kick out of this one."

Michael briefly looked over at the abstract design. "If you say so. I always thought the Pollack style was overrated."

"Don't say that when she has a loaded glue gun in her hand."

"I'm sure there's a story behind that."

"Several, actually."

"Hmm. I'm sure I'm going to hear about them from her at some point."

"Only the ones that will embarrass me."

"It's going to be frightening to see you three together under one roof next fall."

"Speaking of which, what are your plans?"

"I'll be back in the dorms. I've been scanning the online apartment ads and everything is out of my price range. I don't know anyone in Boston I could split a place with, so it'll be back to Milton Hall and the roommate lottery."

"I'm sorry."

"Hopefully, this time I'll get one that understands the concept of hygiene. I would like to get my room deposit back."

"You lost your deposit?"

"Well, because I…uh…left early. Ken was the last one in the room and exerted his usual amount of effort at cleaning. Meaning, none at all. Because we both signed, we both were responsible for the summer cleaning."

"That sucks."

He looked away from her and said, "I kind of see it as paying for my rash behavior that week."

She rested a hand on his thigh. "You better not be tormenting yourself over that. We both made mistakes and apologized."

He rested his hand on hers. "I know. But, if I had stayed, the room would have been clean and I'd have my deposit."

"True, but I can tell you're still beating yourself up over the rest."

He released her hand and carefully watched the road. "Maybe."

"No maybes, you are."

Slightly peeved, he said, "Okay, I am."

"Michael?"

"Don't tell me when to forgive myself."

"What?"

"You're trying to convince me not to feel bad about what I did."

"Well, yes. We made mistakes. You forgave me, I forgave you."

"Thanks, I do appreciate you forgave me. But, I'm a little rougher on myself."

"Michael, don't you…"

"Daria, it's best to drop it."

Surprised, Daria said, "Um, sure. Okay."

* * *

The rest of the trip passed in silence until they reached the house and parked. Daria turned to him and said, "Michael, what's wrong?"

He gripped the steering wheel and sighed. "Look, remember when you told me I shouldn't make decisions for you?"

"Yes."

"The same applies here. Please don't tell me what to do on things like that."

"I only wanted…"

He turned and held her hand. "To help. This is something I have to work out myself. I know you understand holding yourself to a high standard and why I was upset."

"Yes. I've been there."

"And why you can't tell me to take it easy on myself?"

She clasped his hand with both of hers. "I also understand what I've put Jane through, watching me do what you are doing. I agree, I can't tell you want to do. But, can you agree that doing this is hard on those around you?"

"Yes."

"Can you also agree that you don't have to do it alone?"

He looked into her eyes and saw the concern. "I agree."

"Good. I…" Daria suddenly felt her throat tighten. "I… care for you." _Dammit, that's not what I wanted to say._

Michael brought her hands up and kissed them. "I know you do; thanks."

Daria closed her eyes and turned her head away. _Crap, I'll have to try again later._ "I don't see your parents' car."

"They must have gone somewhere."

Daria looked at the house door. "I suppose we should head inside, before your sister starts to spy on us."

"If they were serious about a Buffy marathon, those two have been glued to the television all day."

"Fangirls?"

"Big time."

"Good, then maybe they will leave us alone for a while."

"It'll be our best chance."

"Let's go."

Daria picked up the bags from the museum gift shop and followed Michael into the house. Inside, Gina and Natalie were lounging on the sofa, feet propped on a coffee table. An empty pizza box was between them and partially finished cans of Ultra Cola were on the end tables.

Michael looked at the two and said, "Have your brains fallen out yet?"

Gina fired back, "Why, haven't had dinner yet?"

"Where are Mom and Dad?"

"They went out to see a movie. That's why we came down here to watch."

"Any idea of when they'll be back?"

"Probably after ten. Gave me a twenty to order pizza. Looks like you two are on your own."

Daria looked at the empty box. "You two split a large pizza?"

After taking a drink, Natalie said, "One Grand Supremo with bread sticks. Sure was good."

"And I thought Jane, Karen and I were the only females that did things like that."

Michael walked into the kitchen and said, "Care if I fish for leftovers?"

"I'm kind of beat from being on my feet all day. I'd rather skip going out again if we can help it."

"Have a seat, I'll bring something out and we can go up to my room."

Daria sat in the recliner and began to watch. "Hmm, haven't seen this one. But then, I've missed most of this season."

"How come?" Natalie asked.

"No television in my dorm room."

"You're kidding. No TV?"

"We couldn't run cable in, so why bother?"

Gina scrutinized Daria and said, "Damn, my brother was right. You don't wear makeup."

Michael returned with a plate of leftover lasagna held in each hand, and two cans of soda, still in the six-pack rings, dangling from one finger. "Why cover up beauty?"

Natalie looked a little surprised. "When did Goof-Ball learn to talk like that?"

Gina leaned over and said, "I think he's been taping Dad."

Daria said, "On that wonderful note," and crawled out of the chair to go upstairs with Michael. Out of the corner of her eye, Daria noted that Natalie had looked over at them just before they walked out of sight, almost with a look of relief.

Michael left the door open about six inches. "If it's open, they won't be as curious. If we close it, you can bet their ears will be plastered to the outside within a minute."

Daria took a plate and a drink from Michael and sat on the bed. After taking a bite, said, "Oh, even cold this is so much better than all that frozen stuff I ate over the years."

Michael picked up Daria's feet and swiveled them up onto the bed. She looked at him and said, "What are you doing?"

As he unlaced her boots, he said, "Going to massage your feet. You said they were tired."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." He removed her boots and began to rub her feet.

"Ah…oh. That's nice."

"The day you first said yes to going out with me, my life changed. I haven't exaggerated when I've said being with you is the best thing that has happened to me."

"Michael."

"I almost threw it all away because I panicked and didn't think about you. I really hurt you because of that. I've never wanted you hurt."

"I know. I'm here for you."

"That helps a lot. I'm not used to facing things like this with someone."

Daria closed her eyes and enjoyed the tension releasing in her feet. "Michael, I…want to tell you…"

He watched her and continued the massage.

Daria felt the butterflies return and her tongue freeze. _Argh!_ "I…um…" _Why can't I do this?_

Michael extended his massage up to her calves. "Relax and enjoy. You can tell me later." He felt his heart race as he remembered the numerous occasions butterflies had stopped him from saying anything. _Almost._

* * *

Dressed in a nice Sunday dress, Samantha looked back through the open door. "I know it's not your custom, but you're welcome to come with us."

Daria said, "Thanks for the offer, but I'd feel out of place. I can spend the time writing; don't worry about me."

"Okay. We should be back in an hour and a half or so."

After Samantha walked toward Ron, Gina and Natalie waiting in the car, Michael stopped in front of Daria and encircled her waist with his arms. "See you in a bit. I know you're fine with this, but Mom insists on making sure."

"She wasn't pushy. I appreciate that. I'll warn you, Melody may be in the middle of deep trouble by the time you get back."

Michael gave her a kiss. "Nothing she can't get out of, I'm sure."

"You better get going. They're waiting."

"They can wait on me for a change." Michael kissed her again. "Bye, now."

"Bye."

Once the car had pulled away, Daria went to her laptop case and removed a spiral notebook and a small box. She removed a silver fountain pen from the box. _Mrs. Blaine, this is still one of my most cherished gifts. Thank you._ She sat on the recliner, crossed her legs to make a platform for the notebook, and began to write.

_**July 2, 2000**_

**_This is the first time I've had a chance to write this weekend. Michael and his family just left for church and I have a little time to myself. So far, I'm glad I made this trip. Samantha and Ron have been so accepting, almost treating me as another daughter. Gina is, well, a younger sister. Bound and determined to give us grief at every chance, but somehow, not as mean-spirited as Quinn was at 15. Her best friend, Natalie, is staying the weekend, also. The two of them together remind me a lot of what Jane and I were like the first summer I was in Lawndale. It makes me wonder what kind of family dynamic would have occurred if I had been the younger sibling._**

**_We spent the entire day yesterday at the Detroit Institute of Arts and had a nice time. On the way home, we got into a disagreement. He's still blaming himself for our short breakup and he got mad when I told him he shouldn't. Kind of like how I kept blaming myself for hurting Jane long after she forgave me for kissing Tom the first time. Things look a lot different from the other side. At least he's letting me help._**

**_Even in my diary, I'm putting off the most important part. Why can't I tell him I love him? Every time I've tried so far, I haven't been able to say it._**

Daria looked off across the room for several minutes in thought, absent-mindedly sucking on the end of the pen. She sighed and wrote again.

**_In some ways, this is worse than my agonizing over whether to have sex with Tom. Then, the physical intimacy that scared me, but we became closer emotionally. This emotional intimacy's even more powerful. I now know why Michael had such a hard time telling me how he felt. I wonder how long he tried and failed before it snuck out on him at the Mystik Spiral concert? That was over three months ago. How much has he wondered about my feelings? Last night, after one of my stuttered, failed attempts, he said something interesting while massaging my feet (such a brave man, after they were in my boots for over ten hours). "Relax and enjoy. You can tell me later." I wonder if he knows what I'm trying to say?_**

_**This may be procrastinating again, but I'm not going to try today. Maybe if I give my nerves a break, it will go easier.**_

* * *

With her feet propped up on the recliner's footrest, Daria typed with well-honed speed and precision on her laptop computer.

**Red tracers streaked past and struck the wing and engines as Melody dove out of the open rear ramp of the C-130 and into the night sky. With arms tucked close to her side, she streamlined herself to fall past the flight path of the rapidly closing MiG. Behind her, the steady stream of autocannon fire caused the wing of the Hercules to disintegrate and the aircraft to fold toward the failed wing as is burst into a fireball. With a distant roar, the pursuit plane banked away from the kill as she continued her dive toward the ground.**

A gentle kiss on the cheek brought her back to reality. She turned as Michael said, "Hope we're not disturbing anything important."

Daria returned the kiss and said, "Well, Melody is in free-fall at twenty-thousand feet."

"I hope she remembered her parachute."

Daria gave him a slim, sly smile. "Well, she remembered a parachute, but it wasn't hers. The original owner didn't need it anyway."

"I knew there was a reason I liked her."

Ron approached and said, "Michael showed us the last story you'd published. Working on another?"

"Um, yeah. The two I had published I wrote last summer. I haven't had much chance to write since then."

"Good luck."

Daria closed the file and began the computer shutdown. "With everyone back, I suppose it would be rude to ignore you all and keep writing."

* * *

After lunch, Michael took Daria on a tour of his old haunts. Places like his high school, the park he would frequent for a little extra solitude, the local library, and his favorite used bookstore. They followed with a quiet dinner at a small, French café.

When the oriental waitress, clearly a family member of the owners, walked away, Daria asked Michael, "Vietnamese?"

"The grandparents learned when it was a French colony. They've been a fixture around here for over twenty years."

Daria reached over the table to hold his hands. "Thanks for showing me around today."

"My pleasure."

"Spending the day with Gina tomorrow is going to feel strange. But, I understand."

"Sorry I have to work. Hopefully, the property we have to survey won't be overgrown like Friday, and we can get done early."

Daria rubbed the small sore spot from the thorn. "And not be as painful."

"Yeah."

Daria looked around the warm, friendly atmosphere of the café. "I wish there'd been someplace like this in Lawndale. The only French restaurant was very pricy and formal. Of course, Quinn, in her serial dating phase, ate there on a regular basis."

"I'm glad Gina hasn't done anything like that. She's been fairly picky about the boys she's gone out with."

Daria looked at him over her drinking glass. "Do I detect a little protectiveness for your little sister?"

"Yes. She can be a pain, but she is my sister."

Daria nodded and raised her glass. "I know what that's like."

* * *

Daria was just about to turn off the lamp next to the sofa bed when she heard Natalie quietly say from the stairs, "Can I talk with you?"

Daria put her glasses back on and said, "Sure."

Natalie came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I kind of had my doubts, but it's been nice meeting you."

"It's been nice meeting you."

"And cool seeing you and Michael together."

"Oh?"

"You two are so happy together, like Samantha and Ron. I can see that they're not entirely an exception."

"Um…thanks."

"I don't remember my father. He left when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry."

"Mom's had a lot of bad luck with guys she's dated. I think she quit trying a couple years ago. She's also a cop and sees a lot of bad stuff. I'm sorry I made some bad assumptions about you at first."

Daria looked at the young teen, not sure of what to say.

"Gina's folks gave me hope before; now I feel better seeing you and Michael."

"Thanks again, but I should warn you we're not perfect."

"I know. But, look at you now. It's obvious how much you love each other. Mom said she'd let me start dating when I turn sixteen. I'm not as worried now."

Daria felt a light blush. "We're that obvious?"

"Well, duh. I better get going. Thanks."

"You're welcome?"

Natalie slipped off the bed and ran upstairs.

_Obvious?_

* * *

While Daria was finishing her bowl of breakfast cereal, Ron answered a knock at the front door. There waited a strongly built woman in her later thirties, wearing a police uniform. Ron said, "Morning, Wendy."

She gave him a tired smile. "Hey, Ron. How've you been?"

"I'm good. You look tired."

"It was a long night, and I'm glad I don't have to work again until Wednesday."

Natalie came down the stairs carrying a small, soft-side suitcase and her bags from the mall. Smiling, she moved quickly to embrace her mother and said, "Mom."

She returned the gesture and said, "Nat, have you been behaving for the Fultons?"

Samantha entered the living room from the kitchen. "She has."

Wendy said, "Samantha. Thanks so much, again, for letting her stay."

"It's our pleasure."

Wendy noticed Daria in the kitchen. "Who's your guest?"

"That's Daria, Michael's girlfriend. She's visiting for the weekend from Boston."

Wendy waved and said, "Hi."

Daria waved back and said, "You have a nice daughter."

"Why, thank you. I've tried." She looked around. "We won't keep you; good bye."

Amid a chorus of "Good bye," Wendy and Natalie left.

* * *

Samantha used another day of vacation to stay home with Daria and Gina. Through the morning, Daria and Samantha talked over coffee while Gina watched television. Daria learned that Samantha and Ron met in 1979, while she was a senior at Michigan State. He'd graduated from University of Michigan the year before. They dated through her senior year and married two months after her graduation.

Daria smiled. "That means your twentieth anniversary is at the end of the month. My parents renewed their vows on their twenty-fifth, last weekend."

"That's sweet."

Daria did a quick mental calculation. "You weren't married very long before you became pregnant with Michael."

"True. But, that's the way we wanted it. I wanted to have children while I was young enough to chase after them." She laughed and patted her round frame. "Could you see me trying to chase after small children like this?"

Daria wasn't sure how to answer.

Samantha continued. "Anyway, after Gina started preschool, I became a safety inspector for the factory and worked my way up to Supervisor. Ron's now the senior surveyor for his company. So, that's how we ended up like we are."

Daria told her about Highland and Lawndale. How she and Quinn had been such rivals and now were closer. She talked about how she met Jane and how important their friendship was. She finished by talking about Raft, meeting Karen, and finally getting to know Michael.

* * *

After a simple lunch of sandwiches, Samantha asked, "Daria, do you mind if I run out for a few things?"

"No problem. I guess I should spend some one-on-one time with Gina."

Gina looked in from the living room with a little concern.

Samantha picked up her purse from the table. "That's wonderful. I shouldn't be too long." On her way out, she said to Gina, "I do expect you to behave for Daria."

Once her mother was gone, Gina turned to Daria. "Okay, what's up?"

Daria pulled out a chair from the dining table. "Just a little conversation."

Gina came over and sat in it, with her hands folded.

"First off, by all indications, you haven't said anything about Saturday morning. I appreciate that."

"It was fun seeing how embarrassed you were. But, you haven't given me a reason to spill the beans. As a little sister, I have certain duties to keep my brother on his toes."

"I have a younger sister myself; I'm fully aware of your family obligations to annoy."

"But, you two are safe. Do you think I want Mom finding out we were spying on you?"

"I wondered."

"I really do love my brother. Even if he is a goof-ball, he's also been protective of me. I missed that while he was in Boston with you."

"It feels the same for me, too."

"Don't forget, you're still a target. Have to keep you on your toes, too," Gina said and winked.

With a faintly evil, narrow smile Daria said, "I know. But don't you forget. Michael and I work as a team."

* * *

Late that evening, Daria sat on Michael's bed. His room was unmistakably one that had belonged to the bearer of a Y-chromosome. The single bed had a plain blue sheet and bedspread. The nearby nightstand was unadorned and held only an alarm clock and a half-read book. His dresser had two drawers partially open, with the edges of several garments hanging over the sides. His computer desk was a complete disarray of papers and books. His wide interest in history was evident from the books in the case and the historical timeline posters on the walls. Daria smiled to notice his windows faced east, and remembered one of hers faced west.

Daria looked down at the faded image of Mark Twain on her nightshirt. She filled out the top more than she did at 17 and it was now a bit tighter around her hips. _I guess some things have changed. I actually look female in this now, and I'm not paranoid of being seen in it._

Michael came in wearing shorts and a black t-shirt and sat next to her. "I haven't forgotten Jane's party. Spending the night next to you was a joy."

Daria leaned against him. "Neither have I." _And I remember a little more than you do._

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I love you."

Daria put her near arm around him and rested her cheek against his chest, barely whispering, "I love you."

For a moment, Michael thought he heard something and very gently hugged her tighter and caressed her back. _Did she? I don't want to ask and seem like I'm pushing._

Daria felt the slight change. _He couldn't have heard; I could barely hear myself._ When she tried again, the butterflies were back. She inwardly sighed and looked up. "I'm a little beat." She gave him a nice kiss and said, "Goodnight."

He released her and rose, offering his hands for her to pull herself up. "Goodnight."

He watched her go down the stairs. _Should I just tell her I know? Do I know? Or, am I hoping?_

Daria sat on the sofa bed and placed her glasses on the end table. She looked toward the stairs when she heard a door quietly close. She thought of how his embrace had shifted when she spoke and felt a change in her resolve. With certainty, she smiled and said, "Tomorrow."

* * *

For lunch, all five sat around a picnic table in the park Daria and Michael had visited before. The table was covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth and provisioned with fried chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, baked beans and dinner rolls from a local deli.

Michael finished a bite of food and asked, "Dad, can I take Daria out in the boat to watch the fireworks tonight?"

Gina said, "Gee, and miss Mom's company barbeque? That must have been a difficult choice to make."

Samantha looked at the two. "A couple of people in my office had been curious about Daria…" She gave a half smile, "…but if your Father trusts you with his toy, I guess my nosy coworkers can wait."

Ron also looked at them. "Hmmm. We will be losing our excuse to get away from the barbeque early to take Daria to the airport. But, it also means she won't run the risk of being late because we couldn't get away early. Okay, you can use it. But, you're paying for the gas."

Michael reached across the table and shook his hand. "Deal."

* * *

Next to the boathouse, Daria shook hands with Samantha, Ron and Gina. "Thanks for having me stay."

Samantha told her, "We enjoyed having you. Have a safe flight back to Boston."

"Thanks. Enjoy the barbeque."

Ron grinned. "We'll try. Enjoy the view from the lake. Until next time." He and Samantha both hugged Daria.

Samantha said, "Take care."

"I will," was Daria's response.

After Samantha and Ron headed for the car, Gina stood for a moment and smirked. "Behave yourself big brother. I like her."

He said, "I'm glad to hear that. Trust me; it's in my best interest to behave."

"Good. Daria, keep the Goof-Ball in line, will you?"

She turned slightly to look up at him. "I can do that."

"Great. Bye, then." She turned and waved as she walked fast to catch up with her parents.

"Bye," Daria and Michael said together. Daria looked at him; he shrugged and said, "Let's get this thing underway."

He stepped down into the boat and turned, holding his hand out for Daria.

Taking his hand and stepping into the boat, she said, "I should warn you the last boat I was on hit a garbage barge and sank."

"I'll try to avoid any collisions."

Michael cranked up the outboard engine and steered the red and white boat at idle speed down the canal toward Lake St. Clair. Once clear, he picked up speed, took the boat offshore about mile from town, and brought it to a stop. Several boats were already scattered widely in the area. Michael crawled onto the bow deck and tossed the anchor out. He went to the stern and set a second anchor. "Keep us from spinning," he explained before sliding a small cooler next to the rear facing pair of seats. "Now, we can sit and watch the town's fireworks."

Soon, the setting of the sun left them illuminated only by the mast light. Across the water, small points of light marked the location of other boats. The wind was light and sky clear as they waited.

The slow rocking with the waves made things seem that much more pleasant. Daria smiled as she leaned against Michael and pulled his arms a little closer around her waist.

Michael lightly leaned his head against hers. "Comfortable?"

"Hmm. Yes."

The fireworks started only slightly late. The view from the lake was spectacular: visually unobstructed and distant enough to soften the reports. As the show continued, Daria began to feel a slight disconnect as she became aware that her only sensation of touch was that of Michael. After several minutes, she gave him a very soft kiss and said, "I love you."

Michael was momentarily caught by surprise. _That sounds so wonderful. _He lovingly returned the kiss and she rested her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. He said, "When I first told you I loved you, you had to ask if I meant it. I know I get impulsive at times, but you don't. I know you mean it."

"I'm sorry it took so long."

"Don't. I bet you wanted to be certain, because your honesty demands it."

"Thank you for being patient. I wanted to be sure. I didn't want to be wrong and hurt you."

"It was worth the wait." He kissed her again. "Well worth it."

Holding each other in peaceful contentment, they watched the rest of the fireworks. They passed blissful kisses and soft caresses between themselves and each felt the warmth and caring of the other.

After the show, they wordlessly rode back to the boathouse and tied up the boat. Holding hands, they went to Michael's car. Daria briefly looked in the back seat to make sure she'd remembered her luggage. "I hate to leave."

"You have a plane to catch."

"Plus, I have to go to work and class tomorrow."

She entered the car and he did the same. On impulse, she leaned over and gave him a deep kiss. "Thank you for everything."

"This weekend has been my pleasure."

* * *

The trip to the airport also passed in comparative silence as they held hands across the car seat. Neither wanted to break the mood with too much talking. After Michael parked the car, he insisted on carrying her luggage to check-in.

They cuddled together on a bench near her gate as they waited for her flight. When her row number was called for boarding, they both stood. Daria slid her hands around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. After a warm kiss, they both said, "I love you," eliciting light laughs from each.

"Please have a good flight, and drive careful when you get home."

"I will. Damn I hate this. I don't want to leave you."

"I know the feeling." Michael smiled at Daria. "Now seems like a good time. My father agreed that I can stay in Boston for the summers from now on."

Daria's eyes opened wide.

Michael nodded. "We won't have to go through this again."

Daria rose up on her toes and kissed him. "You wonderful man. Knowing that will give me the patience to make it through the beginning of fall semester."

"You better get going."

"I suppose. I will be thinking about you."

"As will I. Tonight, you made me the happiest man alive."

* * *

Jane stumbled from her room and was instantly alert to the smell of coffee. Following her nose, she found Daria sitting at the table, a cup in her hands, and a glowing smile on her face. Jane grabbed a cup for herself and sat down. "You look awfully chipper for first thing in the morning and after a redeye flight back home."

Daria looked up in surprise. "Oh, you're awake."

Jane waved a hand in front of her friends face. "Earth calling Daria."

Daria continued to smile. "Sorry, just a little distracted."

Jane smirked. "I know you didn't get laid, so what's up?"

Daria completely let the comment go by. "I finally told him."

Jane raised her cup in a toast. "It's about damn time."

* * *

Thanks to Martin J. Pollard for detailed information on the Detroit area.

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

December 2004-January 2005.


	26. Boston Baked Band

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-sixth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Boston Baked Band**

The women's dressing room at the Raft Theater was built to handle far more than the four student actresses, one makeup artist, and one costume mistress currently occupying it. Survey of Theater class's summer play, _Henry V_, was scheduled to begin a Sunday afternoon full dress rehearsal in less than an hour.

Three women were already in costumes and applying makeup. Wendy Anderson was a pale brunette dressed in the simple, functional peasant wear of Nell Quickly. Sandy Devers had blond hair set into two long braids and wore a pale blue gown for her role as Alice. One older, non-traditional student, Janice Tolen, was in the elaborate costume of Queen Isabel.

The tall, blond-haired costume mistress, Isabelle, finished fastening the back of the gown worn by the fourth actress. She said, "Okay, turn around."

She stepped back and examined Daria Morgendorffer, who was dressed in a quartered blue and yellow cotehardie. She crossed her arms in satisfaction and said, "Damn, I love it when a costume comes together properly. I told Professor Paine that this would be best for your build."

Daria turned and looked at the full length mirror in the dressing room. The gown closely fit her from the hips up to the scooped neck. The form-fitted sleeves were held closed with a series of silver buttons from just below the elbow to the wrist. A white cloth band went around each bicep, and a strip fell to a point just at wrist level. Just below a girdle of silver roundels set low on her hips, the skirt flared out smoothly. _My God, is that me?_

The careful cut and close fit of the garment showed off her slender, petite shape in a way that Daria wasn't used to.

Sandy looked over from her makeup chair. "Wow, Daria. You look gorgeous in that."

Wendy set down an eyebrow pencil and gave a brief wolf-whistle. "Damn, girl. If I didn't know you had a boyfriend, I'd ask you out."

Daria felt a strong pang of her old anxiety about looking too attractive. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly released. _Okay, that's better._

Daria opened them just in time to avoid a thrown wad of tissue from Wendy, who followed by saying, "You vixen! Don't tease me like that."

Daria suddenly blushed to realize what her deep breathing must have looked like. "Um…sorry."

Wendy went back to applying her makeup and continued talking. "Oh, well. If you got it, flaunt it. I bet that guy of yours would steal a plane to see you do that. I certainly wouldn't mind an encore performance."

Janice said in a motherly voice, "Wendy, you're just awful. Daria, you look very pretty."

Isabelle brushed her hands together. "Can I sew, or what?"

Toni waved at Daria. "Okay, precious. Now that your ego's got its rocks off, get over here so we can get you in some makeup."

Daria inwardly sighed and sat in front of the intensely dark-skinned makeup artist. Toni removed Daria's glasses and studied her face. "You've got nice skin, and such tiny pores. What do you use on it?"

"Soap."

"You don't normally wear make-up, do you?"

"Don't see a need."

"Whatever. Personally, I think you would look great with a faint blush, but what do I know?"

"I probably would, but that would require effort."

"Touché."

Toni applied the base pancake with deft strokes of a sponge. "You're not going to need that much. Accent your cheeks, a little color to your lips, and lighten your eye sockets so you don't look like a zombie."

"That would be a turnoff for Harry, wouldn't it?"

"Be careful when you put your glasses back on, until you're ready to get out of makeup. You might smudge the makeup on your nose and cheeks. Plus, you don't want to clean make-up off of them. I can touch things up if needed."

"I'll leave them off. No offense, but the less time I spend under the sponge, the better."

* * *

Professor Paine stood several rows back in the auditorium and spoke to the cast and crew assembled on stage. "Okay, remember people, patience. The tech dress went super yesterday, so we're going for a full performance tonight. If everything goes the way it should, we'll take tomorrow off for a little R and R before the last two dress rehearsals on Tuesday and Wednesday. Reviewers on Wednesday night, and opening on Thursday. Places, everyone."

The assembled students began to disperse to their respective start positions. Professor Paine said, "Oh, one more thing. I'll have a special treat for the cast party."

Daria and Sandy walked offstage to the green room, with Sandy helping to make sure Daria didn't walk into anything. Inside, Daria sat down stiffly on a sofa and struggled to adjust the waist of her costume.

Sandy sat with her legs folded under her. "You okay?"

Frowning, Daria said, "I had to suck in my stomach to fit. It's a little uncomfortable."

"Price you pay."

"Not willingly."

Sandy laughed. "You crack me up at times. You are hands down the cutest girl in the cast, and you haven't once tried to show off about it. That's so cool."

"Oh, thanks."

Sandy picked up a magazine and started leafing through it. "The bummer about small parts is the waiting."

Daria pulled a textbook from her backpack on the floor next to the sofa. "Gives me time to study, anyway." She carefully adjusted the book position to compensate for her lack of glasses.

Sandy sat beside Daria and shook her head. "God, you are such a bookworm."

"Hey, this play has been eating up so much of my evenings the last two weeks, I don't have a choice. Between work and class, I'm booked almost solid during the day."

"You are coming to the cast party, aren't you?"

"Yes, I promised I would. I'm dragging along my roommate, Jane, and her friend, CC. Hopefully to deflect some of the male hormones."

Sandy held her hands prayer-like. "Thank you. As much as I've enjoyed being the only available female in the cast, enough is enough."

"I noticed some of your turndowns were getting a little brutal."

"Be glad you have a boyfriend built like a bulldozer."

Daria slightly averted her gaze.

Sandy craned her head toward Daria. Narrowing her eyes, she said in mild annoyance, "He's not. You little…"

Daria looked back, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, but it seemed to be the best way to get these guys to quit hitting on me. Fear seemed to work best." She looked toward the stage. "For most of them."

"You could have told them you were a lesbian, like Wendy."

"Maybe you hadn't noticed, but some have still been hitting on her."

"Hmmm. You're right, and they usually ask if she has a friend to join in. But, she does have some good put downs to use. And, I almost died when Janice slapped Arnie."

Daria shook her head and motioned to some of the male cast members milling around the green room. "Don't any of them have women in their lives?"

"Some of them, probably. I bet most are looking for some hot backstage romance with one of those wild theater trash chicks."

"Then, it looks like they're just SOL, aren't they."

Sandy blushed and smiled. "Well, not all of them."

* * *

After rehearsal, Daria pulled a note from under her car window. After a brief look, crumpled it and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

She shook her head in disgust and went home to the apartment she shared with Jane Lane. There, she found a message from Jane that she'd gone for a run with someone from Boston College. "Jane, you are turning into the boy magnet, aren't you?"

Daria went into the kitchen to fix dinner. Partway through frying some chicken breast strips, the phone rang and she answered, "Hello."

Trent Lane said, "Hey, Daria. How're you doing?"

"Pretty good. Jane's not in right now; what do you need me to tell her?"

"The band will be in Boston for a gig, next Sunday."

"Sunday? Isn't that a little unusual?"

"Yeah, but a gig's a gig."

"True. Let me guess: you need a place to crash."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt. This one isn't paying as much cash as the last."

Daria thought of all four members of Mystik Spiral trying to sleep in George, the big, black SUV Trent had recently purchased after the demise of Max's old unreliable van, the Tank. "Yes, you can stay here. I'll warn Jane."

"Cool."

"So, where are you playing?"

"A cast party for the Raft Theater department. I'm sure I can get all of you in with us."

"Did you say cast party?"

"Yeah. Get this; they threw in free tickets to the show to make up for some of the pay."

* * *

Dressed in an old blue shirt and white shorts, Daria watched television in their sparsely appointed living room. In addition to the original set of folding camp chairs, Daria had added a folding lounge chair, which she currently occupied. A plate with her dinner was balanced on her lap and a can of Ultra Cola was in the cup holder in the right arm of the chair.

From the TV came, "How did simulated insects get away and infect an entire university's network? Computer bugs, the next generation. Next, on _Sick, Sad World_."

Jane entered, wiping sweat from her face with a small towel. "How was rehearsal?"

Daria looked over her shoulder. "Good. We have tomorrow off."

"Cool."

"Trent called. The band will be playing at the cast party, next Sunday."

"Let me guess: they'll be staying here."

"Do you really want to expose the streets of Boston to them?"

"It wouldn't be a pretty sight."

"How was your running partner?"

"Eh, he turned out to be a sprinter. No endurance."

"That really could be taken in a number of ways."

"Like it was intended."

* * *

Showered and fed, Jane removed the cover from her current project, a large portrait of Daria's cousin, Erin, and her husband, Brian. Daria stood to the side with her arms folded. "I'm still wondering what Grandma Tess is up to with this."

Jane chewed on the end of a brush while mentally working up a color mix for Erin's hair. "Daria, I'll let you worry about the conspiracies. This commission is covering my rent and tuition for the semester."

Daria nodded. "Which I'm well aware of, since you can afford for us to evenly split the rent instead of me covering two-thirds. That's what bothers me. Grandma is putting a lot of money into thisnot that you aren't earning itand those two don't exactly have the most stable marriage."

"Daria, I know you get concerned about these things, but I don't want to look too close. This is a real windfall for me. I'm able to put away a lot of my pay from the Children's Hospital for fall." Jane exhaled and looked at her friend. "This is the first time in my life I've had some financial security. I don't want to risk anything."

"Jane, I'm not asking you to risk anything. I'm just worried about you getting hit by some of the shrapnel when whatever happens, happens."

"Speaking of shrapnel, I just thought of something. Are your parents coming up to see the show? Having them share the place with the band could be weird."

"No."

Jane looked in surprise. "I know it's a long drive, but…" Jane pursed her lips and glared. "You haven't said a word to them, have you?"

After leaning back against the window sill and bracing her hands against it, Daria said, "I did tell them. This time, I wanted them to see it. Lately, Mom has really been pushing herself harder than usual and can't make it. But, the department will be taping the show, so I'm going to send them a copy."

"I'm really surprised Helen doesn't want to see you."

"She does, but has been working extra to take off the week before Quinn leaves for college. Adding a twelve-hour round trip to her weekend would be too much."

"What's up her bonnet? Wasn't she enough of a workaholic?"

"She's been with the firm for almost four years. She was promised a fast track review for partnership and expects it any time now. Finally being a partner means a lot to her. I can see that."

"What about Jake?"

"I don't think Dad wants to be here without Mom."

"Quinn?"

"She put in a request for two consecutive days off so she can come up on one day to see the show, stay overnight, and go home the next. She's waiting to see which days were scheduled at her job."

"At least somebody gets to see you."

"Yeah. Wait, I thought you were coming?"

"Cool, I rate as somebody now."

Daria grumbled.

"Gotcha. You sending a copy to Michael?"

Daria smiled. "Yes."

"I'll have to make sure I get some good photos of you. Don't forget, Jodie also wants some."

"Jane, I will get even with both of you."

"Promises, promises."

* * *

Tired after a long day of work, class and the final dress rehearsal, Daria kicked off her boots into a corner of her room and started her computer. While it booted up, she pulled a burger, fries and soda from a bag and started to eat. She checked her email and said, "Good."

**To: DLMorgendorffer  
****From: Princess82**

**Daria,**

**Cashman's scheduled my days off for Sunday and Monday, so I will see the matinee. I hope I can get to your place by noon, if I can read that map you sent. Hey, I'll be in town for the cast party, can you get me an invite?**

**Quinn**

**XO**

"This ought to be interesting."

While Daria was reading more emails, Jane poked her head in the room. "Hey, you do still exist."

Daria spun the swivel chair to face Jane. "So it's claimed, though I'm still waiting for confirmation. At least rehearsals are over."

"Nervous about opening tomorrow?"

"Some. I haven't done any real performance on stage since I took dance lessons in Texas. I fell during the last recital."

"Hey, you'll do fine. You did your graduation speech and the honor society speech at Quinn's graduation without too much problem."

"Yeah, but I also wasn't trying to act, or wear clothes as, um, complimentary."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see you in a sexy dress."

"It's not sexy."

"Daria, I looked up how those dresses fit, and I bet you look good."

Daria said, "Even I have to admit, I do."

Jane suppressed a smart comment and simply nodded.

Daria said, "I never would've been able to do this last fall, with the problems I had. But now, I'm almost okay with it."

"You'll do fine. You haven't freaked out yet."

"Yet. The last problem is a leading man who keeps hitting on me, and that I have to kiss on stage."

"Why do I have a feeling he's going to discover your boots at the cast party?"

* * *

The next morning, Daria went down the external staircase to grab the newspaper delivered to the vicinity of the bottom step. Uncharacteristically, she kept it closed as she ascended the stairs. She sat at the table and looked at her cereal and coffee. After eating and drinking some, she unrolled the paper and removed the Arts and Entertainment section. A quick scan located the theater reviews, and the one she was after.

**Raft University's production of _Henry V_ provides a reasonably pleasant theater experience for the admission price. It's competently produced, if not immensely inspired. The student performances are pretty much a mixed bag. From the scenery-chomping, over-the-top antics of Reginald Newiston as the Dauphin, to the commanding and sure performance of Len Ernst as King Henry.**

Daria scanned lightly through much of the review until she reached:

**Possibly to make up for how outnumbered they are by the men, the actresses gave enjoyable performances. Wendy Anderson's Quickly was a joy to watch. Alice, played by Sandy Devers, was a properly attentive lady-in-waiting, with an impish, playful side. Darla Morgedorfer's understated Katherine was regal and endearing, and few could doubt why she would be King Harry's 'capital demand'.**

"Damn, my name isn't that difficult to spell."

"Says you," Jane grumbled as she leaned against the door frame to the hallway.

"Morning, Sunshine."

"Keep it up, and I'll show you the Moon shining."

"That could be a popular trick at the party, making moonshine come out of…"

"Ugh. Don't finish that thought."

Jane staggered into the kitchen and returned with a large mug of coffee. After a wide yawn, she said, "Hmm. Is that your review?"

Daria handed Jane the section of the paper. "What I was complaining about. Kind of lukewarm."

After reading, Jane folded the top of the paper down and smirked. "Regal and endearing. Damn girl, you can act, if they believe that."

* * *

Outside the backstage door, Daria stopped Jane. "Remember, you're here taking personal photos for me. The university PR drones are paranoid about unauthorized imagery. So, at least look like it."

Jane did a quick check on her camera. "No problem. I'm your personal photo hack."

Daria opened the door and motioned Jane in. "Welcome to the unwashed crotch of theater."

"Gee, don't make it sound too glamorous."

Inside the green room, Daria introduced Jane around to several of the cast and crew before saying, "Have a seat. I need to go get into costume and makeup."

"I wanted to watch."

Daria slowly shook her head. "Be back in a little while. I'm sure you can find somebody to amuse you."

* * *

After getting into costume, Daria returned to find Jane missing from the green room. Walking carefully without her glasses, she went out into the still-lit backstage. "Ugh. Where did she wander off?"

Daria rubbed the tight fabric around her waist. _How do some women do this on a regular basis?_ A click caught her attention and she turned to see a Jane-like blur lowering a camera.

Jane wolf-whistled at Daria. "The jury's in Kid: you look great."

With rolled eyes, Daria said, "Thanks. No flash?"

Jane patted the camera and said, "High speed film and wide aperture. No need. Jodie's going to love that shot."

"Then, she's going to really love the coronet for my last scene."

"After all the 'princess' comments we made about Quinn, you're the one to get the headwear first."

Daria looked out past the stage toward the sound of gathering people. "I'll admit that this would be a good time for contacts."

Jane's lips curled into a grin. "Did I hear right?"

"Don't get your hopes up. The cost doesn't justify the short-term use."

"So instead, you're going to stumble around half-blind on stage?"

"We've had plenty of practice; my blocking is memorized. I'll be okay as long as the scenery doesn't get moved around. Offstage, the stage manager marked the main trail to stage right with glow tape, and is making sure I have a guide."

"Nervous?"

"Not that bad. CC was right. Not having your glasses on helps. Between that and the stage lighting, I can't see the audience at all."

"You're taking performing advice from CC? She'll love hearing that."

"Don't you think you should find a seat?"

Jane grinned. "Yeah, make sure I get one in the front row."

* * *

Sandy looked at Daria and whispered, "This is it."

The stage manager motioned a countdown with his fingers and pointed at them to cue their entrance.

They both moved up to a walk and began. When projected for the stage, Daria's uniform intonation gave the effect of a carefully enunciated, cultured voice when she said, "Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage."

And Sandy replied with a respectful, but playful, "Un peu, madame."

"Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?"

"La main? Elle est appelee de hand."

"De hand. Et les doigts?"

"Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres."

* * *

For the last act, Daria appeared with a small brass coronet on her head. The act began with both kings and sizable entourages on stage. Daria spent the first part looking like she was watching the proceedings and exchanging whispered comments with Alice.

In time, Len, the tall, brown-haired actor playing King Henry, said, "Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us: she is our capital demand, comprised within the fore-rank of our articles."

Janice said as Isabel, "She hath good leave."

Everyone except Daria, Len and Sandy exited the stage.

Len grasped both Daria's hands. "Fair Katharine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms such as will enter at a lady's ear and plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?"

Daria replied, "Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England."

"O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?"

"Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is 'like me.'"

"An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel."

"Que dit-il? Que je suis semblable a les anges?"

Sandy moved closer to Len and said, "Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il."

Len moved Daria's hands up. "I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it."

To that, Daria said, "O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperies."

Len turned slightly to give appearance of looking at Alice. "What says she, fair one? That the tongues of men are full of deceits?"

Sandy half-smiled and nodded. "Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess."

* * *

Jane met Daria in the green room. "Hey, not bad."

"Thanks."

"You look even better with a crown."

"That thing is so uncomfortable. No wonder queens get cranky," Daria said, rubbing her forehead.

Len walked up with his arm around a young woman with medium brown hair that hung to just above her knees. "Great show, Daria. Hey, this is my girlfriend, Mandy. Mandy, this is Daria."

Mandy slightly tightened her grip on Len and said, "Hi."

Daria nodded to her. "Hey."

Len said, "A bunch of us are going out to a club to celebrate opening. Want to come?"

Daria shook her head. "I'm kind of beat. It's almost eleven and I have to go to work in the morning."

"Too bad." He and Mandy turned and left. As they walked away, he half turned and gave Daria a wink. Mandy gave him a disgruntled look.

Jane poked Daria's arm lightly. "Still the party gal, huh? I can also see how unimpressed you are with King Charming."

Continuing to walk to her car, Daria wearily said, "Jane, I'm not kidding. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep. I've seen these people more in the last couple weeks than I've seen you."

"And we all know your compulsive need to meet new people."

Daria yawned widely as she reached her car. "Damn, I am tired."

"I'm okay, want me to drive?"

Daria held her keys out to Jane. "Actually, I wouldn't mind. Thanks."

* * *

The landlady answered Daria's ring of the doorbell Saturday morning. "Miss Morgendorffer, is there a problem?"

"No, Mrs. Lyndon. I wanted to let you know we're going to have some guests this weekend. Jane's brother, Trent, and his band will arrive today and stay until Monday morning, and my sister, Quinn, will get here Sunday and also leave Monday."

"Band? You're not planning a party up there, are you?"

"No. They'll be playing somewhere else."

"It's going to be crowded."

"The guys will stay in the living room; Quinn will use Karen's room."

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Have them park to the side of the driveway."

"I'll make sure they know."

* * *

"One more show. One more show with that sleazebag," Daria grumbled as she drove home after the Saturday night show. She was confused as she drove down the driveway that curved around the house toward the old carriage house that Mrs. Lyndon used as a garage. No sign of George, or any other band vehicle, was in evidence. She parked and went upstairs, a little concerned.

Inside, Jane was watching television and turned to say, "Ola. How's the grand dame of the theater doing tonight?"

"I'm fine, but where's Trent?"

"Oh, Lindy called a couple hours ago. They got a late start when Nick's ex left Ariel with him for the afternoon."

"Something unexpected?"

"No, Nick thought he said something to everyone, but forgot."

"Are you sure Nick's the one that forgot?"

"Well, nobody told Lindy, the one who tried to work up the schedule for them."

Sighing, Daria said, "I guess we wait."

"Yep."

* * *

Daria woke up in the lounge chair and rubbed her eyes. After checking the time, she shook Jane snoozing in the adjacent chair. "Jane."

"Nhh?"

"Jane, it's almost one-thirty and they're not here yet."

"Maybe they just forgot to come up."

Both young women looked at each other and said, "No."

Daria got out of her chair. "They wouldn't…"

Jane went to the kitchen and returned with a flashlight. "We better check."

They went to the landing and Jane pointed the flashlight down at the driveway. George was parked to the side, just as they had been told. Daria rested her head on her hand. "I don't believe it."

She recovered and walked downstairs and over to the driver's door. She gave a quick rap on the window and said, "Trent! Wake up!"

Jesse rolled down the window. "Wha?"

"Jesse, wake everyone up."

"Why?"

Jane moved around to the other front door and shined the light into it. Sudden movement could be heard inside and the passenger window slowly came down. A bleary-eyed Trent muttered, "Officer, I thought we set the parking brake."

"Wake up, you idiot. I'm your sister, not a cop."

Trent blinked. "Whoa, is that you, Janey?"

"Yes."

"Could you do something?"

"Maybe."

"Point that somewhere else?"

Several minutes later, with Jane in the lead and Daria behind to push stragglers, the band stumbled and staggered up the stairs to the apartment. Trent was explaining, "Well, we were kind of late and didn't want to wake you."

Daria pushed Max to keep him moving. "You didn't notice the lights on?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Oh, you were staying up for us."

"Well, yes. The idea of you crashing here was so you didn't have to sleep in the truck."

Jesse looked back toward Daria and said, "Cool," before stumbling on the top step and falling on the landing.

Jane grabbed his arm. "Get up, you oaf, the landlady's going to think you're all drunk."

All four band members successfully made it inside and Daria closed the door behind them. Jane pointed to the living room. "You guys will be in there. Drop your sleeping bags and stuff wherever you want." She pointed to the hall and said, "The bathroom is the first door to the left, all others are bedrooms and off-limits. Quinn will show up tomorrow and will use one of the bedrooms. Any questions?"

Max scratched his bald head. "Um…yeah. Quinn, that's the chick that hangs out a lot with Lindy, right?"

Jane crossed her arms. "Yes."

"What's she like, doing up here?"

Daria raised one eyebrow. "Coming up to see the show."

Max high-fived Nick. "Wow, we're getting groupies following us around to see our shows."

Jane closed her eyes in frustration. "Max, she's coming to watch her sister's play, not the band."

Max looked in confusion at Daria. "Quinn's your sister?"

"Has been all her life."

"Wow, and all this time, I thought you were an only child."

* * *

Jane looked out from the hallway at the band scattered and sprawled over the living room. "At times like this, they should've changed their names to Something, Something Explosion."

Daria worked past Jane and headed toward the kitchen. "I'll start on something easy for breakfast if you wake them. I don't think Quinn's delicate constitution could withstand seeing them like this."

"Gee, you're being all motherly toward them, making breakfast."

"I don't want them gnawing on a bunch of gummy bricks like cavemen with bones. The imagery is just too…disturbing."

"Neon Neanderthals. Got to admit, it would make a cool composition."

"Besides, Professor Paine wanted to see them before the show about the party."

"Okay, I'll wake them." Jane booted Trent on the butt. "Trent."

No response.

After a harder kick, she repeated, "Trent!"

Trent smiled and mumbled, "Hmmm. Lindy."

Jane made a queasy face. "I don't want to know." She kicked him again and rolled his hip back and forth. "Trent! Wake up!"

Trent rolled onto his back with a smile.

Jane leaned over and muttered, "Time for the big guns." She inhaled and produced a squawk very much like her sister, Penny's, parrot.

Trent leaped up in terror at the sound. "Aaa!" He frantically looked around for the offending bird.

"Trent."

Trent looked relieved at its absence. "Damn, I hate those dreams." He looked at his sister and said, "Hey, Janey. What's up?"

"Help me get the band awake."

"Um, sure. Then I can go down to George and get the gummy bricks."

"No gummy bricks; Daria's fixing breakfast."

"Like, food, breakfast?"

"Yes, Trent. You know, like Lindy does."

"Cool. I better get everyone awake." He walked over and kicked the bottom of Jesse's feet. "Jesse, food."

Jane looked in surprise. "I thought you had to wake him just right, or he would get all disoriented."

"You do. If you don't hit him on the bottom of the feet, he gets confused about which way gravity works."

Jane shook her head and went to the kitchen. "Only Jesse."

* * *

While the band attacked the large bowl of oatmeal and stack of toast, Daria went to the door to answer the ring. She rose up on her toes to look through the peephole, to see the top of a red-haired head.

When Daria opened the door, Quinn was holding a small travel bag and speaking into a cell phone. "No problem, Mom…She just opened the door…She's tapping her foot and waiting for me to get off the phone…Okay, bye." Quinn handed the phone to Daria. "Hi, Daria. Mom wants to talk to you real quick."

Sighing, Daria took the phone and said, "Hi, Mom."

Helen Morgendorffer asked, "Daria, is it true you're taking Quinn to a party?"

"It's the cast party. Either she comes with, or we leave her at the theater."

"Please keep an eye on her."

"Mom, she's probably been to more college parties than I have. Wait, I've been to one college party, so she has been to more than me."

"Daria."

"Okay, I'll try to keep her out of trouble."

"Thanks, Sweetie." Daria could hear some paper rustling and Helen mutter, "Damn, where did Maryanne leave those drafts?"

"Mom."

"Yes, dear?"

"Don't work too hard. The tech crew promised to have the tape copies to us at the party; I'm sending yours home with Quinn."

"Oh, thank you, Daria. I'm looking forward to seeing it." Under her breath, but still barely audible, she said, "If I can find the damn time. Eric better appreciate this."

"Okay, Mom. I don't have much time to get Quinn settled before we have to leave. Talk to you later."

"Oh, yes. Goodbye."

Daria looked at the phone for a few moments, searching the buttons. Quinn reached over and pressed one. "There it is."

As she handed the phone back, Daria said, "When did you get a cell phone?"

"Oh, a couple weeks ago. I got a great deal."

"I'm sure you did."

"And, I was thinking about you." Quinn removed a second cell phone from her travel bag and handed it to Daria.

"What's this?"

"Yours. If you want it. It has the same deal as mine. All you have to do is activate and set up your account information."

Daria looked at the phone.

Quinn sighed. "Daria, we'll have unlimited minutes to talk to each other. Please take it. I want to be sure I can reach you when I go to California."

Daria looked up at Quinn. "Under one condition."

Quinn looked worried. "What's that?"

"I pay you back for the phone."

"Daria, it's a…deal."

* * *

After parking her car, Daria directed Trent to park his SUV nearer the backstage loading ramp of the theater. "The cast party will be in the basement after set strike. You'll be able to set up then while everyone is busy on stage."

Quinn got out of the car and said, "Great, but what will I do?"

"Hang out with me and meet the cast."

"There are some cute guys, right?"

"Yes, Quinn. Some of them qualify as cute."

As Jesse, Max and Nick pulled themselves from George, Daria told them, "Okay, Professor Paine wanted to see you before the show to go over the setup and stuff. Come on in with Quinn and me to get that out of the way, and then you can go grab some seats."

Daria led the pack to the backstage entrance. As she opened the door, she heard Max say, "I hope they haven't jacked up the price of the popcorn like movie theaters."

Jesse said, "Yeah. Popcorn sounds cool."

Inside the green room, Daria found Professor Paine talking with Isabelle. She walked up to them and waved a hand backward. "Professor Paine, this is Mystik Spiral." She pointed to each as she said, "Trent, Jesse, Nick and Max."

He grinned and walked over, shaking each one's hand. "I enjoyed your concert in the Quad a couple months ago."

Trent nodded. "That's cool."

Professor Paine pointed back toward the loading ramp. "After the show, you can bring your gear in there; the freight elevator will take you down to the basement. Larry, our sound tech, will get with you then to patch your gear into the theater system. We've got plenty of hands to help, so striking the set should only take an hour or so."

Trent nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."

Professor Paine rested a hand on Isabelle's shoulder. "Just one more thing."

She pointed at the band. "Okay guys, line up against the wall."

Trent went, "Huh?"

She unrolled a tape measure. "I need to get some quick measurements for your costumes."

Jesse scratched his head. "What?"

Isabelle rubbed her temples. "The ones you're wearing to perform at the cast party."

Max frowned at the woman. "The Spiral doesn't perform in costumes."

Professor Paine leaned against the wall next to Isabelle. "You will if you want to get paid. Check your contract."

Trent pulled it from his pocket and unfolded it. Professor Paine pointed to the text. After reading, Trent said, "Ah…man."

Max looked at the contract. "Rena... what?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Renaissance. And I've only got a couple hours to get you measured and something from the stockroom modified to fit. Give me any more crap, and I'll put itching powder in your codpiece."

Max stomped back and leaned against the wall.

Isabelle swiftly moved between them, measuring and taking notes. "I think the Elizabethans we have left over from last year's _Midsummer_ should do the trick. The spandex tights will work for almost anyone, and the doublets will only need a little pinning or stichwork to fit."

Max leaned over toward Nick and whispered, "What's a codpiece?"

Nick whispered back, "Some kind of fish?"

"That chick's weird."

* * *

"Hold still, Daria. I'm still learning how to use this thing." Quinn pointed a digital camera at Daria.

Daria, in costume, held still for Quinn. "Isn't one enough?"

Quinn moved to a different position. "No." Double flashes indicated another shot.

"I'm glad I'm used to moving around here half-blind. Those flashes are murder."

Quinn shut the camera off and put it in her purse. "Done."

"Why is everyone taking my picture?"

"Well, I want one of my sister in her first real play. Lindy wanted one, because she wanted one. Mom and Dad, well, you know."

"All right."

"Besides, you look cute."

Daria looked down and rubbed her hands against her legs. A moment later, looked up and said, "Um…thanks, Quinn."

Quinn pulled out her date book and made a note, all the while, grinning.

"You're not."

"I just did."

"Great. Go, find a seat."

* * *

A wave of relief washed over Daria as the cast took their final bow. The applause felt good, the run was successful, and she'd learned a lot more than expected from the class. She followed everyone offstage and to the dressing rooms.

After removing the cotehardie, she held it on the hanger. "I kind of wish I could borrow you in a month or so."

"I've got the publicity stills for my portfolio; keep it." Isabelle smiled. "It's not likely we'll find anybody to fit into it."

"But, what about…?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Ever." Isabelle chuckled and went on her way. "Now to get that band in costume."

Daria laid the dress over a chair back and began to apply cold cream to her face to remove the makeup. "Yuck."

* * *

Stripped of makeup and in much more casual slacks and blouse, Daria took the dress out to her car and locked it up. She walked around front to the theater lobby to where Quinn, Jane and CC were talking. "Back to reality."

Quinn smiled. "Nice show. Much more interesting than reading it with Mr. O'Neill."

"Receiving a frontal lobotomy is more interesting than reading something with Mr. O'Neill."

Jane rubbed her hands together. "Can we help with the set strike?"

Daria pointed toward the stage. "That way. You can rip and tear to your heart's content. But, cut a flat, and the stage manager will skin you alive."

Jane said, "Warning noted," and started in that direction. CC followed her, then Daria and Quinn.

Quinn tapped Daria's shoulder. "I hope you don't expect me to participate in physical labor."

"Oh, Quinn. Perish the thought."

CC said, "You can always go down and help the band set up."

Quinn recoiled. "Eww. Have you seen what's on some of that stuff?"

"Can't be any worse than some of what I've seen at work."

"Ewww! I didn't need to know that!"

They made the rest of the way in silence. Up on stage, Daria said, "Okay, everybody. This is my roommate Jane, our friend CC, and the redhead is my sister, Quinn. You can introduce yourselves."

Assorted loud greetings fell upon the group from the actors and crew already wreaking havoc. Jane joined a broad-chested man with dark brown hair in pulling the gate of Harfleur apart.

CC joined Daria in peeling tape from the joints between wall flats. "I don't mind helping, but if I don't have to exert as much, the better."

"With my mechanical aptitude, I'm likely to hurt someone if you give me a crowbar."

"Good thing they didn't have you swinging a sword around."

"God, I could have killed somebody doing that."

* * *

Sitting back in a chair and sipping on a can of soda, Daria looked around the crowded basement. Cast and crew milled and talked, many holding their personal preference of a huge range of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages set out on a table next to the snacks. Jane was leaning against the stagehand she'd helped with the set strike. CC was talking with Wayne, the actor who played Orleans and was a male stripper.

Daria gave the two a knowing, small smile. _I don't want to know what constitutes shoptalk for them_. Finally, a knot of males marked Quinn's location. _She's finally stopped the habit of asking boys get drinks for her. Good. You can't be too careful._

Trent and the band came downstairs in Elizabethan costumes of velvet doublets, tights, codpieces and ruffled collars. Scattered clapping broke out as they got into place.

Trent went to the microphone and said, "Hey, we're Mystik Spiral. It's cool to be back here at Raft University in Boston. We're going to start with one of our classics."

_You put me on a short leash  
__and threw away my hydrant.  
__You ate up all my kibble  
__now my coat's no longer vibrant.  
__My nose is dry and chapped  
__but, this puppy's here to stay.  
__Scratch my belly baby,  
__every dog has his day._

Sandy sat in the seat next to Daria and balanced a small plate of chips on her lap. "Your sister sure seems to have a way with men."

"Quinn's been able to do that ever since she figured out they were different."

"Your friends also look like they're having a nice time."

"Jane always had a bit of an outgoing streak in her; she's finally getting to use it. CC, well, is CC."

"Uh oh. Mandy's on the warpath."

"I wonder what she's up to? Much to my surprise, Len hasn't made a single comment to me after the play. I was really hoping to introduce him to my boot." She looked around the crowd, and found a satisfied smile forming on her lips. "Hmm. Len's in the Quinn Pack. This should be fun."

Mandy stalked over to the cluster of young men around Quinn and quietly slipped among them. As she was recognized, men moved away from her, giving an effect like parting water.

She stopped behind Len and listened for a few seconds as he said, "So, Quinn. After I graduate, I'm planning on heading to California to try for my big break. Think I could…"

His voice was cut short by Mandy grabbing the waistline of his pants, jerking up and then back. Without releasing pressure, she pulled him away from Quinn.

Len stuttered, "M…Mandy?"

"Yeah, you lecherous bastard."

"Uh…um…I was only…"

The two were nearing Daria and Sandy. Daria reached over, took a chip off Sandy's plate, and munched on it. Sandy crossed her legs and leaned back. "This is quality theater."

Mandy spat out, "You were talking up that Daria's younger sister, and I heard you. Already making plans for California, huh?"

"I…well…"

Mandy turned toward Daria with fury in her eyes. "You miserable Morgendorffer temptresses!" She tugged hard again before spinning and pushing him into the freight elevator.

Jane disengaged from the man she was with, saying, "Give me a minute." She went over to Daria and Sandy. "Hey, it's been a while since I've heard that term used."

Daria looked at Jane in continued amusement. "I'd almost forgotten about that comment from Brittany."

Sandy looked at Daria and Jane. "Somebody made a comment like that before?"

Jane said, "Yeah, one of our old high school cheerleaders."

Daria interjected. "She was under the delusion we were trying to take her boyfriend away. Okay, Quinn was. I was only trying to get through a science project I was assigned to with him."

Jane leaned next to Daria. "Wasn't that when Quinn's three puppies tried to hit on you?"

"Yeah, fortunately, she showed up to lead them astray…away. And she's done it for me one more time."

Sandy looked over at the reassembled mob around Quinn. "Doesn't seem to have affected her in the least."

Daria looked over. "She's in heaven. Probably hasn't had a good crowd like that in a while."

"How come?"

"Lawndale's a pretty small school. She went through all of the available boys."

"You're kidding. Went through them all?"

"My sister, the overachiever."

* * *

Mystik Spiral played a one-hour set. Trent wiped the sweat away with his forearm and said, "Okay. We'd like to finish with a new song for you tonight."

_Love has the schedules,  
__For where we have to go.  
__Love makes the rules,  
__Why, we hope to know._

Daria crossed her arms and warmly smiled. "He did write a song about that."

_Love set the day,  
__hat made our eyes to see.  
__And put us on the way,  
__To where we had to be._

Jane leaned on the wall next to Daria. "You seem pleased."

"I am."

"It seems to be telling you something."

Daria nodded. "That Trent found who he needed in Lindy and that I found who I needed in Michael."

"Why do I sense a conversation I wasn't around for?"

"Your psychic abilities are still intact."

"And that's all I'm going to get, right?"

"Right."

Trent waved to the applause. "Thanks, we're Mystik Spiral, and we're out of here."

The band quickly started to depart the basement, all showing discomfort at wearing tights. Max grumbled, "Damn, this thing itches."

Daria said to Jane, "Look, I'm going to grab Quinn and head out. I'm beat, and want to have the apartment open when the band crawls back. That way, you can hang out as long as you want."

"I'm not staying much longer than the band. I've got my watercolor tech portfolio to turn in tomorrow, and we both have finals for the rest of the week."

Daria looked around. "At least this counted as the final for my theater class. Anyway, I'm out of here."

"Later, Amiga."

Daria went over to Quinn and said, "Time to go."

"Daria, we've hardly started."

"Quinn, even though I was able to get out of work tomorrow, I still have class and want to have you and the band on their way home before I leave for class. I also need to get home first to open the apartment. Before you ask, Jane will probably be distracted and not interested in giving you a ride back."

"Oh, all right." She turned to the table of men in various levels of intoxication trying to balance quarters on their noses. "I have to go, bye everyone."

Numerous shouts of, "Please, don't go," "Just a few more minutes," "I can take you home," and a few other more explicit comments came from the table.

Quinn smiled and waved at them. "Bye, thanks for the good time."

* * *

The drive to the apartment was mostly quiet. After parking her car, Daria reached into the back seat and grabbed the folded dress. Quinn looked at Daria in surprise. "You kept that?"

"Um, yeah."

After going upstairs and into the apartment, Quinn started looking around the room. Daria opened her eyes marginally wider and said, "Quinn, what are you looking for?"

"Pods."

"Pods? Why would…" Daria looked at the dress in her hand. "Oh."

"You want to show off to a certain somebody?"

"Well, yes."

Quinn beamed with pride. "Daria, there is hope for you. You want to look good for a guy."

"I'm not a cold fish."

"I know."

"But, don't expect me to wear stuff like this on any kind of regular basis."

Quinn grinned. "Perish the thought."

That brought a small smile to Daria. "Good one."

* * *

The next morning, Quinn had risen early to leave. "I've seen the band at Trent and Lindy's, they are way too scary." Daria had paid Quinn for the cell phone and she'd shown Daria how to set up the account online.

Jane blew through at a jog, with a large portfolio under one arm. "Crap, I'm running late. Good to see you, Quinn. Later." Before either sister could respond, Jane was out the door.

Quinn took the cue. "I want to get going, too. I liked the show."

"Thanks for coming, Quinn." Daria picked up a videotape from the table. "Don't forget this or Mom will kill you."

"No kidding. Bye, Sis."

"Bye. I'll see you in a couple weeks."

* * *

Later, Daria stacked dirty dishes in the sink. She looked at the wall clock and groaned before going to the door to the dining and living room. "Okay, guys. I know it's early for you, but you need to be on your way home."

Nick groused, "Daria, you're brutal."

"When necessary."

Carrying sleeping bags, Jesse, Max and Nick found a way to lean on each other and navigate down the stairs. Trent stopped at the door. "Daria, thanks for letting us stay."

"No problem. I liked your new song."

"I had some good inspiration. Um, by the way, thanks for getting me motivated to tell Lindy, um, you know."

"No problem. I know how hard it can be."

"Tell Michael that he better behave."

"I will, and give my regards to Lindy."

"Of course. Goodbye."

"Bye; have a safe trip."

She stood on the landing and watched the band leave. Once the truck was out of sight, she went back inside and to her room. She slid a second videotape into a mailer and wrote a short note to go with it.

_**Michael,**_

**_I hope you enjoy the show. When you get back to Boston, I have something I want you to see._**

_**Love,**_

_**Daria

* * *

**_

_Every Dog Has His Day_ from _Groped By An Angel_ by Jonathan Greenberg.

January 2005

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for Beta reading.


	27. Lost Eagles Found

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-seventh story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Lost Eagles Found**

Jane Lane bounced into the apartment she shared with Daria Morgendorffer and hunted down the petite girl seated at the computer desk in her room. Jane threw her arms around her friend. "I did it! I made it through finals."

Daria swiveled the chair around. "You seem to be particularly excited about that."

"Daria, I've caught up with my classmates. When we start school again in a month, I'll be a sophomore instead of a trailing freshman."

"Summer will do that."

"So did you. Thanks."

"No problem. Having you bounce off the walls around here helps to preserve my sanity."

"Well, then. Glad to be of service." Jane's vision stopped on a painting of Daria in a swimsuit and resting in a lounge chair, with a bespectacled young man looking up at her. She pointed to it and said, "Damn. Can you believe it's already been a year?"

Daria looked up. "Our roadtrip to the beach. That was fun."

"I wonder what Greg and Will are up to these days?"

"I hope they found another nice pair of girls to spend the day with."

"I hope so, too."

"No, I'm not going to the beach this week."

"Ahh. Come on."

"No, I'm busy."

"With what?"

Daria looked back to the computer. "Shopping. God, I even hate online shopping." After a sigh, she said, "Why the hell did I wait until the last minute? Oh, yeah. Play performance last week and finals all this week."

"Whatcha looking for?"

"A birthday present for Michael. It's a week from today."

"You call this last minute?"

"I need to take shipping time into account, so I don't risk missing him. He leaves for Lawndale the next Monday to meet me there."

"Ah, yes. Seeing Quinn off to California and then a caravan back here. Hey, it might be a little late, but why not give it to him in Lawndale? You know; the personal touch." Jane winked. "And maybe get a few personal touches in return?"

Daria scratched her chin. "You may have something there."

Jane stepped back. "I just made a sexually suggestive remark, and you didn't react to it?"

"I did. I said, 'You may have something there.'"

"Whoa."

"Jane, I am growing up some, you know."

"I cut you some slack about your trip to see Michael a month ago. I'm disappointed."

Daria gave her a slender smile. "Let's just say that there are some advantages to not wearing earrings."

"Okay, Morgendorffer. I want details."

"You know, it is going to be so much fun grilling you…when you start seeing someone. Wait, I won't have to: you spout off so much information my head will explode. Forget I said anything."

Jane wagged a finger. "Don't try any of your verbal tricks. Come on."

Daria gave Jane just a tiny, wicked smile. "It's a satisfying way to wake up."

"You're building up a resistance."

"Practice."

"Dammit. Okay, no beach and no teasing you about your almost sex life. I guess I'm helping you shop."

Daria pointed to the living room littered with fast food packages and other debris left over from a week of finals. "After you help me clean this mess up."

"Yes, Mom."

* * *

Jane wandered out of her room holding her head. Her black shorts were on crooked, and the widely stretched neck of her brown shirt was shifted over to one shoulder. "Errgh."

Daria stood near the bathroom in a long, green nightshirt, scratched her still-uncombed hair and asked, "Bad night?"

"Weird dream."

Daria yawned and stretched. "So, what else is new with you?"

"Just...one of those that seemed extra real."

"Look, I don't care about who you dreamed of molesting, I don't want to hear about it."

Jane shook her head and felt her lips. "Just plain weird. Anyway, enough with my dreams. Have you had any good ones lately?"

"None that I'll tell you about."

"Whose turn is it for breakfast?"

"Mine."

"Good, I wouldn't want to eat anything I'm able to cook right now."

"I wouldn't either."

"Another fruitless day of shopping planned?"

"After work. I'd rather pull my toenails out with pliers. If this weren't for Michael…"

"You wouldn't have put this much effort into it and you wouldn't be in this position."

* * *

"Daria, are you sure you know where we're going?"

"You don't have to come with, you know."

"But it's so much fun watching you get frustrated."

"Don't you have to drive that painting of my cousin and her husband down to Grandma Tess?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"Oh, joy."

They came up to a small shop in one of the older commercial quarters of Boston. The building was aged and worn looking.

Jane said, "This place is so creepy, it looks like it belongs in a Stephen King novel."

Daria checked the small sign.

**Historical Oddities  
****Reproductions You Thought You'd Never Want.**

"This is the place. I suck at shopping; I'm hoping to find something odd here to pique his interest. I do kind of want this to be special."

"Daria, you're once again involved with a kook."

"In we go."

The room looked like a time-traveler's junk room. Reproductions of all manner of items filled every nook and cranny of the store. Furniture, clothes, weapons, armor, jewelry, tapestries, and tools. Jane's eyes had widened and she began to paw through things at a furious pace. "Okay, I changed my mind; this stuff is too damn cool."

A fortyish gentleman with light brown hair, grey eyes and silver framed glasses sat behind a counter, reading. He nodded to the two. "Anything in particular you're looking for?"

Daria looked around some. Jane was already off on a creative scavenger hunt. "I'm looking for a gift…for my boyfriend."

"Must be a history buff if you're looking here."

"Well, that is his major."

"Hmm. Is he interested in any particular time period?"

"Ancient Rome."

The man looked toward one corner. "Does he have a sense of humor?"

"About as twisted as mine."

The proprietor showed Daria a staff about seven feet tall. At the top was a golden eagle, beneath was a plaque with 'SPQR' on it in raised letters. Beneath was a second plaque with a number, then several discs and wreaths.

"How about a bronze and ash replica of a Roman Legion standard? Completely useless to most people, but an interesting conversation piece. If he's a big history fan, he'll get the joke."

Daria looked closer at the number on the second plaque. It was marked, XIX. "Nineteen. Perfect, that's how old he'll be."

"It is a little pricy, but each component is hand cast in bronze using ancient techniques. Two-fifty."

Daria whistled. "That was a bit out of my price range. We're both college students."

The man looked over and noticed Jane was already carrying a couple small items. "It looks like your friend is finding things of interest. Tell you what: that is a kind of prototype and there are some things I want to improve on. Two twenty-five."

"One seventy-five."

"Ouch. Two-ten."

"Two hundred."

"Eh, it hasn't moved in six months. Deal."

* * *

Jane held a paper bag in one hand and the door of their apartment open with the other. Daria carefully moved the long standard into the living room and set it in a corner. "Okay, I'm definitely not shipping this. Michael gets it next Monday."

Jane set her bag down on the table and looked at Daria's burden. "Okay, tell me again: what the hell is it?"

"It's a battle standard, kind of like a flag. One soldier would carry it up near the front so the rest could see it."

"Okay, so what's the stuff mean?"

Daria scratched her head. "Okay, the eagle was one of the symbols of Rome. 'SPQR' is a Latin abbreviation for _Senatus Populus Que Romanus_, or 'The Senate and People of Rome.' The number I guess is the legion number. I don't know jack about the rest."

"I heard the guy say something about a joke."

Daria shrugged. "No clue."

"Two hundred is a lot for one present."

"It was more than I'd planned, but I couldn't resist." Daria dropped her head. "Oh, God, I just sounded like Quinn."

"Love will do that to you, huh?"

"It also means I'll be eating cheap for the rest of the month. Good thing I'll be mooching off Mom and Dad most of next week."

"You want my 'Ramen Noodle Surprise' recipe?"

"Jane, my digestive tract and I are still on speaking terms."

* * *

Jane tossed her round suitcase into the front passenger seat of her car and hung a garment bag from a hook by the back seat. She then turned to Daria. "I'm off."

"You're always off; I assume you're leaving, too."

"Don't get mushy on me."

"Drive safe; there are lots of crazy people on the road."

"I'll try, since I'm one of them. I'm going to drop by to see Trent and Lindy and crash for the night on my way down. Tomorrow, I'll head to your grandma's place and drop the painting off, and back to Casa Lane again for the night. I'll start back Monday, but you'll be on your way to Lawndale by then. I'll see you when you get back. I can't miss that much work."

Daria traced the flame pattern on the side of Jane's car with a finger. "Yeah, see you next weekend. Life sure is getting complicated. Good luck with my grandmother. She can be really strong-headed."

"Thanks. Adios."

"Bye."

Jane climbed in and started the black car. She smiled and waved again to Daria before starting out. The painting for Daria's grandmother was safely wrapped and packed in the back seat. "For the money she's paying, I don't mind the drive down to Virginia to drop it off. Besides, it'll be nice to see Trent and Lindy for a couple nights."

* * *

Jane stretched and groaned as she got out of the car. She cautiously checked the mailbox. "Okay, still says 'Lane' on it." She turned again to look at her lifelong home. The color was the same as always…but it was fresh and clean. "Lindy, you're being a bad influence again." Jane grabbed her bag and went to the door, giving it a quick rap as she reached it.

Trent opened the door, still a bit sleepy. "Janey?"

"Yeah, Trent. Your little sister is home for a couple nights."

"Cool." Trent turned and yelled, "Lindy! Janey's here."

Trent's blond girlfriend came in from the kitchen. "Hi, Jane."

"Hey. I bet that fresh paint out there is your doing."

Lindy grinned. "Guilty."

"I'm curious, but afraid to ask how you motivated Trent into painting the house."

"I didn't. I paid some professionals to come out." She teasingly squeezed Trent. "Even I couldn't motivate him into house painting."

Jane said in surprise, "Lindy! How could you afford that?"

"My new job is paying really well, and I thought it would make up for Amanda not charging me rent. Besides, I like living here and want it to be nice."

Jane was relieved the inside was still mostly unchanged, though neater than when she was in high school. One important difference was a state of the art computer placed on a solid desk in one corner. Above it was a poster advertising "Cyber Doo. Film and Multimedia."

She asked, "Lindy, yours?"

"Yeah, when I'm on a creative roll, they let me work on stuff at home."

"Any you can let me see?"

"Only if you let me see that painting you're delivering."

"Deal."

Lindy sat down and cleared the screensaver by swirling the mouse. She opened up an animation program and started a file. "I like this one, since it's using an old jingle that Trent wrote."

Jane immediately recognized the Honest Herb's jingle from a couple years earlier. The original stiff live action of the commercial was replaced with some nice, simple computer animated sequences. Jane smiled at Lindy. "That is some cool stuff."

"Thanks. I know I'll be stuck doing commercials and things if I stay in Lawndale, but the pay is still good, and I have a lot more job security than if I made a shot at Hollywood."

"And Trent is here."

"That, too."

* * *

Jane set the wrapped painting on the floor. "With how humid it's been lately, I really don't want to leave a canvas in the car overnight." She removed the wrapping to show a lifelike portrait of Erin and Brian.

Lindy squatted down to look. "Did you mean to include that hint of sadness in her eyes?"

"It was in every photo that was provided as a reference. I'd started feeling sorry for her."

"It looks like something is really getting to her."

"I just realized; I have seen that look before."

"Oh?"

"That's the look of someone who just wants a friend."

* * *

The elderly, red-headed woman answered the door. "Hello."

"Mrs. Barksdale? I'm Jane Lane."

"How wonderful. Tess Barksdale. Please, enter."

"Thanks." Jane maneuvered the painting and easel into the spacious and elegant home. She looked around and thought, _This woman has seen "Gone With the Wind" way too many times._ She set up the easel and placed the covered portrait on it. "Let me get changed and I'll be ready. Do you want a sneak peak?"

"Oh, dear no. That would be cheating. My guests will be here in a little under an hour. Please use the downstairs guest room to change."

* * *

"Boy, I'm glad I'm still flexible," Jane said to herself as she looked over her shoulder into a mirror to see while pulling up the zipper on the back of her gown. It was the same one she bought the previous summer for the honor society luncheon. "At least I'm getting a second use out of this thing." Befitting Jane, it was all in red, from the full skirt to the short sleeves and v-neck. Jane put on the dress shoes and wobbled slightly. "Freaking heels."

She went back out to the parlor and waited with Mrs. Barksdale, who had set out fine china and tea service, as well as delicate pastries, for the anticipated guests. Over the next forty-five minutes, about a dozen ladies assembled, all of similar age and status. One exception was Erin, who quietly sat to the side while the others conversed. Jane worked her way over. "Hi."

The redhead looked up. "Hi. You must be the artist of the day."

"Jane Lane, Artist Extraordinaire."

"My cousin's friend. How is she? I've hardly seen her since the wedding."

"She's doing pretty well for herself. Four-oh after three terms at Raft."

"She was always the smart one of the family. But what about the rest of her life? I never hear much." Erin pointed to a middle-aged woman with blond hair. "Mother said she has a boyfriend. What about him?"

"I have to admit they seem to go well together. They make a cute couple."

"I hope she's happy."

"She is."

Erin looked into the distance. "I'm glad to hear that."

"I don't see your husband here."

"He's off on some 'hot' job interview…again."

"Would you…"

Tess Barksdale tapped a glass. "Welcome, everybody. I hope you're having a pleasant time."

Murmured agreement came from the guests. Jane whispered, "I guess that's my cue."

Tess waved a hand toward Jane. "May I introduce Miss Jane Lane, currently of Boston."

Jane uncomfortably smiled and said, "It's good to be here."

"Ladies, I've had this talented young artist prepare a portrait of my granddaughter, Erin, and her husband. Miss Lane, if you will do the honors."

Jane removed the cover to reveal the portrait. Pleased clapping arose among the guests, and Tess looked on with satisfaction.

The guests approached closely to examine the work, and to make small talk with Jane. Several asked for business cards, which Jane handed out while thinking, _Thank you, Lindy._

During the activity, Jane saw Erin slip out of the room. _Dammit. It looks like she really could use a friend._

* * *

Daria quietly pulled a steamer trunk out from the closet and opened it. "Theresa, I'm sorry I haven't visited lately. To make up for that, you have me all to yourself today. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

The trunk, a bequest from Mrs. Blaine containing the woman's diaries, had been with Daria since Theresa's death almost a year ago. Daria removed a volume marked "1931" and began to read.

_**Tony was able to read a full sentence today. I was so proud of him. He was so happy to see the words and understand them. The feeling I had was one of intense happiness and satisfaction. My doubts are now gone, I'm staying with Education as a major. Will all this dreadful unemployment, It feels good to help these poor people learn to read, and maybe have a chance to work again.**_

"Well, teaching probably is still on the agenda; I know the odds are against me making it solely as a writer." She looked up for a while. "From some of the things Jane said, I'm starting to have a little more respect for the crew at Lawndale. At least for what they had to put up with, if not their assorted and sordid personality flaws."

Daria set the volume back in its place and removed one marked "1980." She flipped through the pages and said, "I wonder…"

_**November 19**_

**_It looks like Phil and his family will make it here for Thanksgiving. Len can't make it. He was very disappointed. I think he also suspects, as I do, that Mark won't last to another. My dear husband is finding it harder to breathe every day. A cylinder of oxygen doesn't last anywhere near as long as it used to. I should be happy for the forty-seven years we've had together, but feel that I'm being cheated._**

Daria closed the book. "She told me she'd lost her husband in eighty-one. He didn't make it. She also lost her son, Phil, only a couple years later. It's too bad they weren't able to get together. I wish my extended family could get together without all the bickering."

* * *

The displaying of Jane's painting and the conversation over it lasted for another half-hour. During that time, Jane was approached by Erin's mother, Rita. "Miss Lane. That is a wonderful likeness of my daughter."

Jane nodded. "Thanks."

"Mother is very pleased with it."

"Erin has a very photogenic face. It made my job easier."

"But it is a mark of talent that you were able to make Brian look good."

"He was a little more difficult to fit in the composition."

Rita frowned a bit. "Difficult is a good word for him." Rita looked toward one of the guests. "Please excuse me."

Jane watched with dismay. "The more I meet other families, the more I like the benign neglect of my upbringing."

Once the final guest had departed, Jane excused herself to go change back into her regular clothes. The parlor was empty when she returned. She looked around and took a seat on the ornate sofa, draping her garment bag on the arm. _I wonder where Erin got off to. I'm still hoping to talk some more._

A couple minutes later, Tess came back with fresh tea. She placed the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Jane.

She poured tea into two fine porcelain cups and asked, "Cream and sugar?"

Jane looked at her momentarily. "Oh, yes, please."

Tess finished preparing the tea and handed the cup and saucer to Jane. "I understand you share an apartment with my granddaughter."

"Yes."

"At her parents' wedding anniversary, she said you were her best friend."

"And she is mine. Ever since tenth grade."

Tess set her cup on the table. "Helen and I have not gotten along well for many years, and I've had much less contact with my granddaughters than I'd have liked. What is Daria like?"

"Huh?"

"I could tell she's strong-willed and loyal. The way she stood up to everybody."

"Oh, strong-willed and loyal is a good description of her."

"So much like her mother."

"If you don't mind hearing it, Daria used strong-willed to describe you."

Tess half-smiled. "Why do you think I recognize it so well? Helen is a lot like me. That's why we don't get along. I suspect the same between Daria and Helen."

"They've gotten better in the last year." Jane felt distinctly uneasy. "Mrs. Barksdale, why are you telling me all this?"

"Since they moved to Texas all those years ago, I've seen Daria and Quinn maybe a dozen times. I hardly know who they are."

_Well, I've hardly seen my grandmother is the last few years._ _No loss there._

Tess went on. "To be blunt, I'm not getting any younger. I'd like to know her and Quinn better."

"Well, Daria is majoring in English and Education. It's no secret that she plans on grad school. I wouldn't be surprised if we're calling her Dr. Morgendorffer by the end of it all."

"That would be nice."

"She's had two stories published and she's been writing more this summer."

"Helen made sure I got copies."

"I think she bought a case of each and sent them to everyone she could think of."

"You probably don't know as much about Quinn."

"She's leaving for Pepperhill in about a week. She's planning on a Marketing major. I think she's also planning on taking the male population of California by storm."

"Oh, dear. I hope she isn't…"

Jane laughed. "No, she's not. She dated a lot, but kept firm control of what happened."

"Good." Tess dropped her voice to a whisper. "I wouldn't want what happened to Rita to happen to her. I love Erin, but her father was…I don't want to talk about it."

"Oookay." Jane felt even more uncomfortable. "Mrs. Barksdale, I think you really should be asking them, instead of me."

"I should. Thanks for your time, and thank you for that wonderful painting."

"Thanks for commissioning it."

"I do have some business I need to tend to." Both rose and Jane picked up the garment bag with her dress. After escorting Jane to the door, Tess said, "Please, have a good day."

"Okay, Mrs. Barksdale."

As Jane walked around her car, she saw Erin sitting on the ground. She had changed from her formal wear to jeans and a blouse. Jane said, "Hey. That doesn't exactly look like a comfortable spot."

Erin stood up. "Hi. It looks like you survived Grandma's mob."

"I've encountered worse."

"I'm sorry you got pulled into this."

"Uh…pulled into what?"

"That really is a nice portrait."

"I'm missing something here."

"Your painting is Grandma's latest ploy to keep me and Brian together."

"I'd heard Daria mention that you two had problems."

"Marrying him was a huge mistake. One that Grandma's doing everything she can to keep from admitting. I should have gone through with it over a year ago when Mother asked Aunt Helen to help. Now she can harp on how much money she spent on this lovely painting, and how can I possibly think about a divorce."

"Let me get this straight: your mother has been divorced…Tess doesn't want you to be like your mother."

"Exactly. It wouldn't look good for her 'perfect' granddaughter to get divorced. I have to make up for Mother's faults."

"And you want to get a divorce."

"Brian's a slimeball. Oh, he worked for the CIA…as a mail clerk. He's a drunk, he's been out of work since we got married, he gave me herpes, and he's probably sleeping around."

Jane stood in silence, clueless of what to say.

"He's also very charming. I've fallen for that often to believe that he'll treat me better." Erin struggled to control her tears. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and gave it to Jane. "This is my email. Could you please write me?"

"I guess so."

"Thanks." Erin began quickly walking toward her recent model white sedan. "I appreciate it."

Now visibly crying, Erin got in, waved and backed away, leaving Jane standing in mild confusion. _What just happened?_

* * *

Quinn opened the door with a broad smile. "Daria!"

Tired from the drive, Daria gave a "Hey, Quinn," in response.

"Don't be so excited."

"I'm tired, my butt's sore, the burger I had for lunch is fermenting, and my patience is thin after the road construction on the interstate through New York."

"I don't care." Quinn hugged her sister.

Daria limply responded.

Quinn grabbed Daria's suitcase from her hand. "I'll get that."

Daria watched her sister move up the stairs. "You're being awfully nice today."

"I'm just glad to see my sister."

"Uh-huh. What's up?"

Quinn turned at the top of the stairs. "Daria. I am glad to see you. I…um…have been starting to realize just how much I'll miss you this fall."

"We'll be seeing each other about as much as we did last fall."

"But, we'll be a lot farther away. And…I'll be alone."

Daria reached the top. "And I'm sure you'll find new friends there. But don't worry; I'm keeping the new cell phone. You can still call."

"Thanks."

Daria turned and headed back down the stairs. "That's what I get for talking with you and not paying attention. Could you just drop that in my room? I still need to get Michael's present out of the car."

"Wasn't his birthday last Friday?"

"Yeah, but I didn't find anything good until then. I called him and let him know it would be here waiting. Besides, shipping it would have been a pain."

"Daria…did you get him something weird?"

"Depends on your definition of weird."

"Oh, God. You got something really weird."

Daria opened the trunk of her car. "I'm glad the back seat folds down to open the trunk into the cab." The standard was already wrapped and diagonally stretched from the trunk, past the folded rear seat and into the folded back front passenger seat. She carefully extracted it and took it to the house.

Quinn looked wide-eyed at the unusually shaped object as she held the door open. "I'm afraid to ask."

"Trust me, it's a guy thing." Daria looked around the living room before resting it next to the entertainment center. "I don't feel like dragging it upstairs. Michael can do that for himself."

"When is he going to get here?"

"It will be another three hours or so. We talked on the phone just before both of us left this morning."

"So we have a little free time. I got a package from Amy. I think you might recognize it." Quinn gestured for Daria to follow.

In Quinn's room, Daria read the note she was given.

_**Quinn,**_

**_Belated congratulations on graduation and the Honor Society placement. Sorry I'm running even later than usual this year. I'd hoped to give this to you in person at your parents' party, but just couldn't get everything together in time. I'm turning into an absent-minded professor. Since it only seemed fair, you're getting the same survival kit I sent Daria. Hopefully, you'll also get a livable roommate. If not, remember, getting all A's for the term if your roommate dies is only an urban legend._**

_**Amy**_

_**Dorm Survival Kit Contents:  
**__**Eye shades  
**__**White noise generator ear covers  
**__**Nose plugs  
**__**Book light  
**__**Hot plate  
**__**Sauce pan, lid and serving spoon  
**__**Table knife, fork and spoon  
**_**_1001 Dorm Recipes for Hot Plate, Microwave and Toaster Oven, Rev. Ed.  
_**_**2 Bath towels, 2 hand towels, 2 wash cloths  
**__**Single cup water heater  
**__**Box of English Breakfast tea  
**__**1 Gross No. 2 pencils  
**__**Electric pencil sharpener  
**__**Travel mug with lid**_

Daria smiled. "Trust me, you'll appreciate this."

"I can see some of these, but nose plugs?"

"Believe me; sometimes your roommate may come in a bit…ripe."

"Ewww."

"That'll be your reaction."

Quinn flipped through the book. "And God, the fat content in these recipes."

"You'll also appreciate them. Meal plan food can be even worse."

"Daria, don't joke about things like that."

"I'm not joking."

"Now, you're scaring me."

"Good. You should always fear meal plan food."

* * *

Michael Fulton smoothed his bright red hair and cleaned his glasses on a tissue. He stuffed the tissue into his pocket and opened the door. Greeting him was a young, attractive, African-American woman in a conservative business suit, who said, "Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?"

"Hi. I don't have an appointment, but is it possible to see Mr. Morgendorffer?"

"I believe he is free right now, your name please?"

"Michael Fulton."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Michael? Daria's mystery man?"

"I guess so, unless she's seeing another Michael."

"She better not. I'm Jodie Landon."

"Oh, her friend from high school. She said you were working with her father this summer. Pleasure to meet you."

"So, what brings you here?"

"I effectively hid from Mr. Morgendorffer when I was in town back in May. I want to get on a better footing with him."

Jodie grinned. "Yeah, he can be animated at times. I'm sure you two have plans for tonight, but I'm inviting you and Daria to pizza with Mack and me tomorrow."

"I'll let Daria know."

"Thanks. I'll ring you in." She picked up the phone and pressed buttons. After a moment, she said, "Mr. Morgendorffer, you have a visitor."

Jake closed the two-handed solitaire game, _Rotten four of clubs,_ and rose to greet the opening door. "Jake Morgendor…Michael?"

Michael entered and closed the door behind him. "Hi, Mr. Morgendorffer. I hope you don't mind."

Jake walked to the young man and extended his hand. "Come on in." After a brief handshake, Jake got a worried expression. "What's up? Is anything wrong?"

Michael shook his head. "Everything's fine."

Jake continued to get agitated. "If everything's fine, then why did you come here?"

Michael held his hands up defensively. "I avoided you the last time I was in town; I want to make up for that now."

Jake looked quizzically at him. Michael continued, "It was clear that you were…very nervous about me and my relationship with your daughter."

Jake's shoulders tightened.

Michael looked at him with concern. "Having just patched things up with her, I didn't want to risk any kind of confrontation."

Jake's eyes narrowed.

Michael swallowed. "I can tell you're very protective of her. To be honest, so am I."

Jake relaxed minutely.

Michael approached a little closer. "Mr. Morgendorffer, there is no way I could ever hurt, or take advantage of Daria."

Jake relaxed more, but remained uncertain.

Michael looked down briefly and shuffled his feet. "I love your daughter. I cannot change that, and don't see any possible reason that would make me want to."

Jake finally spoke. "I remember college, and the tricks guys would use on girls." His eyes smoldered again.

Michael stepped back. "No trick. I was fascinated by her the first time I noticed her; we had a class together last fall." Michael smiled as he remembered. "Bright, witty, and…so beautiful."

Jake looked at him, but seemed to focus inward.

"I never dated in high school; all the girls said no, but they were also cruel, and sometimes would play tricks on me before saying no."

Jake's eyes glazed and his voice came out in a bark. "I know what that's like. One date the entire time I was in high school and she left with old Big Jerk on Campus…"

Michael quickly continued before Jake could build to a full rant, "It took me a month to get the courage to ask her out, right before Thanksgiving break. She turned me down, but was just…honest and polite. However, the Monday after the break, she asked if I was still interested."

Jake smiled a little at the story, remembering how he nervously first asked Helen under almost the same conditions, when they were college freshmen. He also remembered telling Daria the story as they drove to Lawndale from Boston for Thanksgiving. Jake put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Son, I exactly know that feeling."

Michael looked at the suddenly friendlier Jake in surprise. "Um…thanks."

"Let me tell you a story…"

* * *

"God, I thought I packed a lot of stuff." Daria looked around at Quinn's preparations. "Don't forget, this has to fit in your car. You're not taking Mom's SUV like we did going to Raft. I pity your poor roommate."

"Daria, I'm taking only the bare essentials."

"I checked the website; the dorm closets look to be about the same size as I had at Raft. You'll never fit all this in there, unless you find some convenient extra-dimensional space to use."

"I can't believe I'm doing this…Daria, will you help me figure out what to take?"

Daria opened a large box on Quinn's makeup table. It was filled with cosmetics. "How could you possibly need or use this much makeup? This is better stocked than the Raft Theater Department."

"Makeup is an art; you need to have the right tools available."

"Take the real basics. If nothing else, buy fresh when you get there. Save you the trouble of moving it."

Quinn's eyes brightened. "Daria! That's a great idea. I'll need to learn where all the good stores are anyway."

Daria slowly shook her head. "Remember; don't break the bank on the first weekend."

"Daria…Mom's been making me pay for a lot of my stuff all year. Don't worry."

"Well, just extend that to the rest. Take the basics, you can get more there."

"Even more shopping! Daria, you're a genius."

* * *

Daria anxiously looked at her watch. _Four hours. I hope nothing happened._ She waited in the living room, watching the local news on television. Her head turned quickly upon hearing the door open and her father's voice saying, "It's starting to look like a used car lot out there. I'll leave the door open; just grab your stuff and come in."

Jake looked over and noticed his oldest daughter. "Hey, Daria. Welcome home. Michael's right behind me." He went over and gave her a hug. "How're you doing?"

"I'm fine." She saw Michael walk in. "Excuse me," she said to Jake.

He released her. "Sure thing, Daria. Go say hi to your fella."

She put her arms around Michaels's shoulders and kissed him. "I was starting to get a little worried."

Michael responded in kind. "Sorry. I stopped by to talk to your Dad, to smooth things over. He got a little long-winded."

"That was a brave thing to do."

"I'm hoping my ears recover soon." He lifted his suitcase to make it more visible and asked Jake, "Mind if I take this up to the guest room?"

Jake gave him a thumb's up. "Sure thing."

Daria followed Michael upstairs to the guest room. Near the top, he said, "That was a uniquely strange experience."

"My Dad; one-on-one and unfiltered. An occurrence not normally survived by someone not blood-related."

"I wanted to make sure I got on his good side. The scary thing is, I think it worked. He likes me."

"He's wanted a little more male influence around here. Living in a house full of women has gotten to him at times."

Michael set his luggage down inside the room and turned to Daria. He held her cheeks in his hands and said, "I love you," before giving her a long, soft kiss.

She warmly responded with, "I love you." She gave him a hug. "I've missed you."

"This last month has really crawled, waiting to see you again."

"I was a little worried. I have a cell phone now; you can call if you're going to be sidetracked."

"Oops."

"I'll let you off easy, this time. Bonding with my father was probably a traumatic enough experience as it was."

"Let's say I have a lot more respect for your patience."

"He does seem to like you. Just a warning: if he wants to teach you how to cook, run away."

"I think I better remember that. Speaking of cooking, I have a cooler in the car with a little present from Mom for you. By the way, everyone says, 'hi,' including Gina and Natalie."

"Why don't we go get it, and then you can open your birthday present."

As they passed the living room on the way out, Jake waved from the kitchen. "I've had a great idea for a Japanese Goulash. I'm going to whip a batch up for dinner."

Daria turned away to hide the slight fear on her face. "Sounds…interesting, Dad."

Jake was correct about the automotive crowding. Daria and Quinn's cars were parked next to the garage, Jake and Michael's behind them.

As they walked to Michael's car, Daria said, "I hope cooler implies something edible. I'll share it with you."

He pulled out the small cooler and handed it over. "I ate my share for lunch on the road."

Daria opened it, and found a block of Mrs. Fulton's lasagna next to the small chill pack. "Your mother is trying to spoil me, and she's succeeding." Daria looked at the house. "Do you mind if I eat it here? I don't want to hurt Dad's feelings."

Michael moved away from the driver's seat. "Only place to sit. The car's otherwise packed."

Daria sat down and used her fingers to eat the homemade pasta. "This is so good."

"She offered to email the recipe to you."

"That is intriguing, but I would also be tempted to eat too much of this, and I swore to cut back on lasagna in college."

"It would also make a good motivator…"

"You are one evil bastard at times, you know that?"

Their attention was diverted by her mother, Helen, parking her SUV at the end of the driveway. Daria mumbled around a mouthful of food, "This could be awkward."

Helen slammed the door shut in frustration. "This is my vacation! That arrogant son of a…" Helen noticed the two of them. "Daria, Michael. I'm so glad to see you."

Michael stepped forward in front of Daria and said, "Hi, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Daria used the screening to finish and close up the cooler unnoticed. She waved around Michael, "Hi, Mom."

Helen gave each a brief hug. "I'm happy you're both safely here. Let me get some dinner ready."

Daria warned, "Mom, Dad's already on a roll."

"Oh, dear. And we have a guest." She started a fast walk toward the house. "I better do something quick."

Once she was inside, Daria pulled Michael's arms around her and kissed him. "Thank you, that was very thoughtful."

* * *

Quinn was in the living room when they went back inside. Helen and Jake could be heard negotiating dinner in the kitchen. Quinn said, "Hi, Michael. So you're what all the fuss is about."

He said, "I guess."

"I'm glad you made it. Daria would have been unbearable otherwise." She moved to go back up the stairs. "Did you see the video of her play?"

"Several times."

"Wasn't Daria pretty in it?"

"She's always pretty."

Daria could still feel a faint blush rise.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Oh, yeah. You're so far gone; you'd think she looked good in a burlap sack." She started up the stairs. "Daria…oh, never mind."

Michael was a little confused. "What was that all about?"

Daria felt a bit more blush, and frustration at her sister. "She's just being Quinn, nothing to worry about. Why don't we get you to your gift?"

He rubbed his hands together. "Goody."

"Let's not show too much maturity."

"It's my birthday; maturity is optional."

Daria shook her head and picked up the gift, handing it to him. "Happy birthday."

Michael looked suspiciously at the large package and dubiously began removing the paper. As the shapes became clear, he energetically finished the job. He looked it up and down. "Wow. This is really cool." He looked closely at the gift. "And really nice work." He set the standard aside and suddenly grabbed Daria in glee. "Thank you!"

They kissed and Daria said, "I'm glad you like it."

He spun the emblems around to read the number. "Nineteen." He started to laugh. "So this is where it ended up."

Daria narrowed her eyes in mock frustration. "Okay, the guy said you'd get the joke. Now, fill me in."

"One of the Lost Eagles of Varius."

"Which tells me – squat."

"Three legions under _Publius Quinctilus Varius_ that tried to conquer the land west of the Rhine were wiped out in the Teutoberg Forest by a force led by Arminius. The eagle standards of the legions were captured and afterward referred to as the 'Lost Eagles.' The Nineteenth was one of those legions, so it looks like you found a lost eagle."

Daria shook her head. "History geek humor."

He kissed her again, very gently. "This really works, and means a lot. I don't know how you found something like this, but I'm thrilled you did." He set the gift back against the wall and held Daria, caressing her hair.

Helen stopped at the edge of the living room and looked at them. She felt happy for Daria, but also a touch of jealousy. _I remember when Jake and I were like that._ "Excuse me."

Daria and Michael separated, but held hands.

"Jake and I couldn't exactly agree on what to fix for dinner, so we're compromising and going out. Do you have any preference on where to go?"

* * *

Holding hands, Daria and Michael entered Pizza Prince the next evening and found Jodie and Mack seated at a booth. Jodie waved them over and said, "Since this was my idea. Michael Fulton, meet my boyfriend, Michael MacKenzie, or Mack. Mack, meet Daria's boyfriend, Michael."

Mack and Michael shook hands. Mack said, "Clearly a man of distinction. Why else would he have such a noble name?"

"And obviously a man of excellent taste," Michael said in return.

Jodie and Daria looked at each other and thought, _What have we done?_

As Michael and Daria took a seat across the booth, he said to Jodie, "So now I understand that comment earlier, when I stopped by to see Mr. Morgendorffer."

Jodie squeezed Mack's hand. "I will admit that I'm a little possessive."

Daria looked at Jodie and Mack. "Sorry I didn't get to see you on my last trip."

"No big deal."

"No riding gear. Still have the motorcycle, Mack?"

"After running into a couple large swarms of June bugs, I opted for changing transportation."

Jodie flicked an imaginary bug off his shoulder. "I'm glad I was behind him. But, I could see his point."

Daria made a face. "Sometimes having an active imagination is detrimental."

Mack also made a face. "Considering how hard it is to clean leather, the reality was still worse."

Daria said, "Tell me, Jodie, how did you survive working with my Dad?"

"Compared to what I'd done the last couple years, your Dad is a piece of cake to deal with."

Unnoticed, Tom Sloane sat at a table and had watched Daria and Michael enter. _We almost never held hands like that._ He also noted how closely they sat together and sighed. _Cindy was right, the feeling of romance just wasn't there._ He finished his slice, walked over and said, "Hi, Daria."

All four looked at a young man with dark brown hair and green eyes. Daria said, "Tom."

Tom nodded and said, "Jodie, Mack. Nice to see you again. You must be Michael."

Tom extended his hand, which Michael shook with caution and said, "You must be the Tom that Daria dated in high school."

"I am."

Daria pointed to an empty chair, nearby. "Would you like to have a seat?"

Tom pulled the chair over and sat in it reversed, leaning against the backrest. "I won't stay long. I just wanted to say hello, and to be honest, it is nice to actually see you again, Daria. It's been over a year."

"Thanks. It is nice to see you again, too."

"Is Jane in town?"

"No. She's in Boston."

"Ah."

Mack noticed Michael's unease and diverted some attention. "I think I've seen enough ice cream to last me a lifetime this summer. Tom, what have you been up to?"

"I made it through my first year at Bromwell. Not doing too badly. Spent another summer working for my Dad. At least Elsie is filing the earnings reports now. I've been moved up to tracking stock prices. You weren't stuck in that ice cream truck again, were you?"

"Warehouse and inventory. So I saw a lot more, and felt like it was still winter."

Jodie smiled. "But, I made sure he was warmed up."

Daria eyed them. "I'm sure." Under the table, she found Michael's hand and gently squeezed it.

Tom looked over to Daria. "How did that play work out?"

Daria said, "Not too bad. We got mostly good reviews."

"That's cool. Is Quinn excited about college?"

"She's looking forward to California, all the new shopping, and all the new boys."

"Sounds like her."

"Elsie?"

"She'll be a senior this year. I haven't had to lean on any boys too badly. So, pretty good." Tom hesitated, and said, "Michael, you've brought out something in Daria I never did. I sincerely hope you two stay happy."

"Thanks, Tom. I'm hoping that, too. Daria has always spoken well of you. Here's hoping to your success in life."

Tom rose and put his chair back. "I won't take up more of your time. Good to see everyone."

Daria said, "Tom, it was nice to see you again. I am glad we have stayed friends."

"So am I. And, I'm glad you found somebody better for you than I was. Good night."

All four said their goodbyes to Tom as he left the restaurant. After the door closed, Tom took one last peek. _She's happy with him. That's one wish that came true. Although, a part still wishes that was me in there._ He got into his trusty old Jaguar and pulled away.

Mack observed, "That went pretty well. It can't be easy meeting your girlfriend's ex."

Michael released a breath. "I'll admit that meeting Tom was a little unsettling. However, he does seem to be a nice enough guy." He leaned and kissed Daria. "I'm aware that there's no threat. Intellectually knowing and emotionally accepting don't always come at the same instant."

Jodie said, "That you and Tom are still friends is impressive. Not many people can do that."

"I think that admitting we had grown apart before something bad happened helped."

Jodie grinned. "Hey, Tom mentioned the play. I got the pictures Jane sent. Damn, Daria. You looked good."

"Not you, too."

"Come on, that dress did something for you."

"I yield; thanks. All the girls on the cast said the same thing."

Michael made the belated connection. "Oh, that's what Quinn was talking about. I'm sorry I didn't catch it sooner. Too bad I didn't get to see it in person."

_Be careful of what you wish for._ "That's all right. I'm sure Jane will make plenty of copies for you. Back to where we were. Jodie, how have your parents dealt with the internship?"

Jodie said, "Once Dad figured out what was going on, he was happy. Mom came around, finally, after seeing what we've been able to do this summer. Plus, being able to take Evan with occasionally gave both her and Rachael much needed breaks and improved her attitude."

"How did Dad deal with that?"

Jodie smirked. "I think it broke him of any illusions of wanting a young son around."

"So, my Mom owes you, big time."

"I'll collect if I ever need legal advice."

Daria nodded. "Dad said that he doubled his business, because of you."

"We were able to exploit a fresh niche. All of the minority marketing was to younger customers; we aimed for the older demographic. Being black, I was able to get the initial contacts going. Your Dad, being closer in age, was able to build on those because of shared experiences from the sixties and seventies. Once that got started, word of mouth did the rest. I got such great experience out of this summer. I'm glad you talked your dad into letting me intern there."

"Jodie, you also got him feeling like he was doing something useful again. He and Mom are two old hippies who once wanted to change the world and lost their way. You helped Dad find part of the way back. Thanks."

* * *

Jane sat on her bed with one of her sketchpads, drawing an image of a forlorn Erin sitting on the ground next to Jane's car. _Oh, hell._

She got up and started her computer. While it booted, she went to the kitchen for a glass of water and returned to open her email.

_Why do Trent and I seem to attract lost souls? Must be genetic, it does seem to apply to other Lanes._

She pulled the note from her pocket and started a new message.

**To: Erin Chambers**

**Hi,**

**I hope the rest of your day went better. I stayed at my parents' Sunday night and got safely back to Boston on Monday. I've been thinking about what you said, and how you looked.**

**I don't know how much it will help, but I've have always had good ears.**

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

January 2005


End file.
